


A Hogwarts Murder Mystery

by Hot_elf



Series: Miss Fisher Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, F/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22970719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: Jane Ross is looking forward to her final year at Hogwarts and all kinds of excitement: friends, exams, a dash of romance, and of course her new Charms teacher: Miss Phryne Fisher. But things take a sinister turn when several students start complaining of memory loss. It's a good thing Professor Fisher has a talent for uncovering mysteries...
Relationships: Hugh Collins/Dorothy "Dot" Williams, Kip/Jane Ross (Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries), Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Series: Miss Fisher Hogwarts AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747753
Comments: 166
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

_Another year at Hogwarts._ Jane's heart beat faster as she took a look around the Great Hall, lavishly decorated for the return of the students, the tables creaking under their load of delicious food. And what a year it promised to be! Her final year, which meant a ton of hard work as she prepared for her N.E.W.T.s., but hopefully lots of laughter and good times, too. As Head Girl, she would have to set a good example for all the other students, but she wasn't going to let that fact spoil her fun.

"We're going to have such a great time this year!" Ruth's words echoed her thoughts so exactly that Jane couldn't help but grab her hand and squeeze it excitedly.

Her best friend had claimed the place right next to her, at the head of the Ravenclaw table. They were the oldest students in their house now – and, gosh, had the First Years always been this tiny? It was hard to imagine they'd ever been such babies themselves, scared and confused and worried they might not fit in. Because how could two little girls from a London Muggle orphanage ever hope to compete with all the children from the top wizarding families?

"Look at _them_." Once again, it was obvious that Ruth had been thinking along the same lines. Her lips were set in a contemptuous snarl as she pointed out a bunch of giggling girls at the Slytherin table: Rose and her posse of sycophantic admirers. "They think they're ever so irresistible."

Jane rolled her eyes. Sure, Rose was pretty enough, and so was Kitty. But Marie was plain as a doormat, and they were all trying far too hard to impress the boys, hitching up their skirts as far as they dared and slathering on as much make-up as they could hope to get away with. Maybe that kind of thing worked on Derek and his Slytherin friends, but not on the other guys, Jane was sure about it. She managed a tiny, surreptitious wave at Kip, over at the Hufflepuff table, feeling her heart give an odd little jump when he waved back and smiled at her.

Just then, the Heads of the various houses called for order and quiet for the Headmistress's speech. Professor Butler's Hufflepuffs settled immediately, and it only took one strict glance from Professor MacMillan for the Ravenclaw table to calm down. But the Gryffindors were a rowdy bunch, and Professor Collins was still far too young and inexperienced to make them behave properly, in Jane's opinion. And the Slytherins were chattering excitedly, eager to find out who their new Head of House was going to be, now that Professor Flint had retired.

_Well, you're in for a big surprise._ Jane had a hard time hiding her grin. It was nice to have inside information for once.

Next to her, Ruth was straining her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the teachers' table. "There she is, Jane. Oh my, you must be so excited."

Jane opened her mouth to answer, but right then, the Headmistress stepped forward to the podium and raised her voice. "Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone." A few First Years started giggling when they first set sight on Professor Stanley, short and buxom, dressed in old-fashioned brocade robes that made her look a bit like an antique settee. But they were quickly silenced with nothing but a pointed look. The Headmistress was a formidable old lady, there could be no doubt about it.

"I am sure you will all be curious about the changes in the staff room this year." The professor put on her most benevolent smile. "As you all know, our dear colleague, Professor Flint, has ended his tenure here at Hogwarts and intends to spend his remaining years trout-fishing in Scotland. And we all wish him a very pleasant retirement." She waited until the polite applause had died down, then cleared her throat. "His Care of Magical Creatures classes will be taken over by Professor Yates."

This time, the applause was genuine and well-meaning. Professor Yates, formerly known as Cec the groundskeeper, was immensely popular with the students. Jane had no doubt he was going to do a fine job, even if right now, he was doing his best to hide in the corner of the teachers' table, clearly embarrassed by the students' enthusiasm.

"I am also very pleased to announce that we have finally succeeded in finding a new Charms teacher." Professor Stanley sounded genuinely relieved – during the past school year she had taught the subject herself, and it had to have been stressful for her to juggle her duties as headmistress and teaching at the same time. "Let me introduce my niece, Professor Fisher, who is also going to be Head of Slytherin House."

And there she was, Jane thought. Phryne Fisher, her very own beloved godmother, smiling brightly at everyone as she rose to her feet and nodded at the students. The Slytherin table immediately erupted into another round of excited chatter, refusing to calm down until the Headmistress threatened them with a silencing spell. There were quite a number of sulky and hostile glares among the students, and Jane caught a low murmur of "Her niece, eh? Can't we have someone _qualified_ for once?"

Clearly, the new professor was going to have her work cut out for her. But Jane didn't doubt for a moment that Phryne Fisher would succeed.

After all, she always did.

* * *

With a heartfelt and most unladylike curse, Phryne shrugged off the heavy, suffocating teachers' robe and tossed it into a corner. "Finally. Honestly, I'm really not sure this was a good idea."

"Oh, come on." Mac raised an amused eyebrow at her. "The students are going to adore you. And I'm sure you can handle your fellow professors."

"Yes. No. Maybe." Phryne dropped into a comfy armchair, breathing a deep sigh of relief. At least she had made sure her flat would be completely refurbished before she'd agreed to take on the position. Old man Flint really had had the _ghastliest_ taste in furniture. "I still don't know. I mean, I've never envisaged myself teaching, of all things."

"Well, it ought to make for a nice change." Mac's grin widened. "Seeing as how you've tried out pretty much everything else, short of becoming a career criminal."

"Not quite _everything_." Phryne put on her best pout, even though Mac did have a point. She'd certainly pushed the limits of what were considered respectable professions for young ladies from good wizarding families. Maybe it was time to settle down for a bit. At least for a while. "Anyway, Aunt P was quite insistent she needed me to help her out."

"She is going to love having you here." Mac wandered over to the side table and poured a generous tumbler of firewhisky for each of them. "And I can use a little more stimulating company as well."

Phryne accepted the glass with a grateful sigh. "Tell me more about our colleagues. Are they really as boring as they seem at first glance?"

Mac settled back into her own chair, nonchalantly dangling her trouser-clad leg over the armrest. "Well, there's the usual assortment of old fogeys. Ford's a prime example. Teaches Ancient Runes and is convinced that mere females can't grasp the intricacies of his subject." She snorted contemptuously. "Some of the others aren't too bad, though. I'm sure you remember Butler from your school days. He's still an old dear. Oh, and Collins is all right, too. In over his head with Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he has a good heart."

"I'm sure he does." Phryne stifled a yawn. "Well, maybe you're right and I'll have nothing worse to fear than boredom. And at least I can keep an eye on Jane."

Mac nodded. "She's been doing so well. Bright as a button, that one, and brim-full of magical talent. Her friend, too. You should be proud of them."

"I am." Phryne smiled to herself. It hadn't been easy to persuade her aunt to accept Jane and Ruth as students at Hogwarts, what with their lack of a _proper background_. But Phryne had seen the girls' potential right from the moment she'd first set eyes on them, in that horrid Muggle place with its bare walls and icy atmosphere. "You know, I do look forward to meeting my students."

"Yeah, well. Enjoy the feeling while it lasts." Mac's tone was bone dry. "I guess we should call it a night." She drained her glass and got to her feet. "Get some rest, Phryne. You're going to need it."

"Night, Mac." Phryne embraced her friend tightly.

As the door fell shut behind Mac, she leaned back against it with a small sigh. _Get some rest,_ Mac had said. Sound advice, in all probability. After all, this job definitely was a new experience for her. _Though really, how hard can it be?_

* * *

"Come on, Jane! We're going to be late for Transfiguration!" Ruth sounded worried, but then, she always did. "You know Professor Turner hates interruptions."

"Just a second." Jane craned her neck to catch another glance at the Hufflepuff table. She'd hoped for a quick chat with Kip before school started, but he was deep in conversation with Professor Butler who was smiling benignly at him. Ah, well. It couldn't be helped, and she'd see him later anyway – apart from Transfiguration, the Ravenclaw Seven-Years had most of their lessons on Mondays together with Hufflepuff house.

"Jane!" Ruth sounded almost panicky. "Please."

"On my way." She mentally rolled her eyes at her friends' eagerness. True, Professor Turner didn't appreciate tardiness, but they really had nothing worse to fear than a pointed remark. The Transfiguration professor was tough but fair, and besides, it was the first day of school. Surely the teachers were going to give them some time to settle back in.

Jane soon found out how wrong she'd been. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." Professor Turner's tone was crisp and business-like as she surveyed the room with her cool blue eyes. "I'm sure you're all aware that we have a lot of work ahead of us if you want to be well prepared for your N.E.W.T. exams next summer. Let's not waste any time, shall we?" She raised a beautifully plucked blonde eyebrow at Jane and Ruth who had snuck into the classroom at the last moment.

"See? I told you to hurry." Ruth seemed close to tears, and Jane relented. Professor Turner was one of their favourite teachers, and she really didn't want to leave a bad impression either.

"I'm sorry, Professor." She did her best to sound contrite. "It was my fault. It won't happen again."

"Duly noted." The briskness of Professor Turner's reply was tempered by a quick, smile in their direction. "Now, please open your books at page 15."

The rest of the lesson passed quickly. Professor Turner's lessons usually did. She was a good teacher, clear and precise, and she always made sure to include lots of practical wandwork to give them a break from the complicated theory. And it definitely was challenging stuff they had to handle this year! Even Derek and his Slytherin gang were fully focussed on their schoolwork for once, which made for a nice change from their usual bullying and catcalling.

The class groaned in unison when the professor announced their homework – a massive theoretical essay, due the next day.

"But Professor!" Rose was batting her long lashes fast enough that Jane was beginning to worry they'd come off. "That sounds terribly complicated and I'm not sure-"

"Feel free to come and see me in my office if you have any questions, Miss Weston." The professor finished writing with an elaborate flourish. "That goes for all of you, of course."

Another quick smile, and she was gone.

"Oooh, private lessons. Wouldn't mind some myself. I've always had a thing for blondes." Derek leaned back in his chair, smirking at his devoted followers who responded with embarrassed chuckles.

"Ugh." Jane made a face and quickly reached for her bag. She really didn't need to hear more. Derek had been a pain before holidays, and the time he'd spent at his uncle's mansion (which he kept bragging about), obviously hadn't changed him for the better.

But she had little time to think about misbehaving Slytherins. The next lesson was Charms, and Jane couldn't wait to see Phryne – _Professor Fisher_ , she reminded herself – in action.

"Hey Jane. Ruth." Kip was already there, and he'd saved seats for them in the second row. "Can't wait to meet the new teacher. Isn't it exciting? I hear she's-"

"Good morning, everyone." Phryne Fisher's bright, musical voice cut him off before he could say anything he'd regret later. "As you all know, I'm your new Charms teacher, and I'm glad to say that I'm quite excited to meet you as well. Now, let's have a look at your—"

"Professor Fisher?” Lila, one of the Hufflepuff girls, raised a hand. "Can I ask you a question?"

Phryne visibly flinched. " _Miss Fisher_ will do, thank you very much. And your name is…?”

"Lila. Lila Waddington.” She smiled nervously. "Is it true you used to be a dragon keeper?”

"I spent a year in Romania working with dragons, yes.” Phryne smiled indulgently. "But that was a long time ago, and I wouldn't presume to call myself a _dragon keeper_ , Miss Waddington. That's a highly skilled and dangerous profession, you know.”

"Miss Fisher?” Another hand went up. "Is it also true that you once broke into a Gringotts vault?”

"Now, that's complete nonsense, of course.” Phryne's expression remained perfectly serene. Jane, who knew perfectly well that there was more than a little truth to that particular rumour couldn't help but admire her poker face. "Everybody knows you can't break into a Gringotts vault. Besides, if it _was_ true, I wouldn't tell you, would I?”

"Miss? Is it true that you're a Legilimens?” Kip's best friend Ned was normally very quiet, but it was clear that he, too, was intrigued by their new teacher.

Miss Fisher's smile turned even more cat-like than usual. "Trust me, in most cases I don't need any special talents to read my students' thoughts."

There were a few nervous giggles, but no one dared ask further.

"But, Miss?" Yet another excited voice, and there were at least three more hands up.

But this time Miss Fisher cut the question off by raising her hand. "Enough! We have work to do. Now, did you cover the basics of nonverbal spells last year?”

Miss Fisher proceeded to quiz them thoroughly about their curriculum so far. When she was finally satisfied, she took a step back to perch on the edge of her desk, arranging her long legs gracefully. "It seems you're all well versed in Charms and up to date with your schoolwork. Professor Stanley did a very good job last year, I have to say, and you are obviously a bright bunch.”

Jane glanced around. Everyone looked happy at the unexpected praise, and her own cheeks nearly hurt from smiling.

"Now, I know we still have a lot of ground to cover.” Miss Fisher ran a hand through her glossy black hair. "But one of the things I like best about my subject is that it allows for a certain amount of… let's call it creativity. Which is why, starting next lesson, I'm going to set aside the final ten minutes of each lesson for spells that are a bit more frivolous.”

"What do you mean, Miss Fisher?” Ruth sounded slightly nervous.

"Oh, nothing too wild, obviously.” Miss Fisher's expression was one of wide-eyed innocence. "Just a few beauty charms, ways to keep secrets…” Some of the boys pretended to yawn, and her smile widened. "Enlargement charms, maybe.” _That_ got their attention. Jane had to stifle a giggle.

"Just a few things to cheer you up.” Miss Fisher got to her feet again with a happy little bounce. "Well, see you all on Wednesday.” And she was gone before anyone could reply.

"Oh man!” Ned was the first to speak, and he voiced what they were all thinking. "That was awesome! Why does she have to be Head of _Slytherin_? They don't deserve her.”

Jane was inclined to agree, but Kip shook his head. "I like Professor Butler.”

"Well, MacMillan isn't bad either," Ruth chimed in. "Just a bit strict. But you're right, Miss Fisher would be awesome.” She sighed wistfully.

"Can't be done.” Jane gave her a brief hug. She knew her friend was a bit jealous because Ruth rarely got to spend her holidays at Phryne Fisher's elegant townhouse, like Jane did. Ruth's grandmother was still alive, and Phryne insisted that she spend as much time as possible with her. "Miss Fisher was in Slytherin herself, so she can't be head of any other house."

"But why Slytherin! She doesn't seem evil to me." Lila shook her head.

"You don't have to be evil to be sorted into Slytherin,” Kip explained patiently. "Just ambitious. Our Slytherins aren't all evil either, aren't they?”

"Could have fooled me.” Lila muttered under her breath, and Jane remembered that Derek had been particularly mean to her last year.

"Anyway, Miss Fisher definitely isn't evil,” she said aloud. _A bit ruthless, maybe. Like that one time, when-_ But this wasn't the time to gossip about her godmother. "Come on! It's almost time for lunch!”

They set off for the Great Hall together. Jane felt a happy tingle along her spine as she followed Kip and Ned through the corridors. So far, the new school year was off to a promising start!


	2. Chapter 2

Phryne was relieved to find herself in the staff room all by herself after lunch. It was nice to have some peace and quiet, after a rather taxing morning teaching cute but _very_ active First Years. She was about to explore the assortment of biscuits laid out on the side table when she heard a clacking noise at the window. A letter!

The large eagle owl was strong and well-groomed, and it politely accepted the offered treat before setting off for the owlery. Phryne quickly unrolled the tiny, perfumed scroll it had been carrying. A slow smile spread across her face as she read the message, and when she'd finished, she raised it to her lips, inhaling the delicate scent. _Dearest Lin_.

"So, who is he?" Mac had walked in without her noticing. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Phryne as she poured herself a generous mug of tea. "The lover _du jour_ ," she elaborated, when Phryne gave her a confused look.

"Oh." Phryne accepted a mug of her own with a happy sigh. "Lin Chung."

"That sounds Chinese." Mac's expression darkened. "Damn it, Phryne, I told you to stay away from opium. It's not good for you."

"He has nothing to do with the opium trade," Phryne protested. "Lin is an importer of fine silks, among other things." Ignoring Mac's amused snort, she closed her eyes, revelling in the memory of the lingerie set he'd given her for Christmas. _So gorgeous_! And the expression on Lin's face when she'd first worn it for him… Ah, she missed him. Maybe, if she could sneak away for a weekend in London at the end of October, they could-

Her pleasant musings were interrupted by a commotion from the direction of the fireplace. There was a cloud of dust and soot, a retching noise, and then a young woman staggered out of the hearth, one hand pressed firmly across her mouth. Phryne recognized her as Dorothy Williams, the teacher of Muggle Studies, but this was clearly not the time for polite introductions. Luckily, Mac had enough presence of mind to grab a large, flowered vase from the mantelpiece and hand it to her. Miss Williams accepted it with a grateful sob, gripping the rim tightly as she emptied her stomach into the vase.

Phryne couldn't help but wrinkle her nose, but Mac just shrugged. At a snap of her fingers, the vase and its contents were gone. " _Accio_ Nausex draught." Another snap, and there was a faint whooshing noise as a little vial buzzed in through the open door and dropped into her hand. "Here. Drink this."

Miss Williams drained the bottle with a grateful sigh. "Thank you so much." A little colour was already returning to her cheeks, but her hands were shaking badly.

Phryne handed her a handkerchief so she could wipe her mouth. "Goodness. Does this happen every time you floo?"

The young woman nodded miserably. "Every single time. I hate it."

"Odd." Mac regarded her with scientific detachment. "Most people outgrow flooing sickness by the age of twelve or so."

"Well…" Miss Williams was blushing and she avoided looking at Phryne and Mac as she carefully folded the handkerchief, smoothing out the delicate lace. "I… I never had a chance to do so. My parents weren't wizards, you see."

"You're Muggleborn!" Phryne exclaimed. _But of course._ That went a long way towards explaining why Miss Williams was so shy and quiet. It had to have been hard for her, a Muggle child at Hogwarts, ten or fifteen years ago. "But that makes you an ideal choice to teach Muggle studies, Miss Williams."

"Please call me Dorothy. Or Dot." Miss Williams smiled weakly. "You really think so?"

"I absolutely do." Phryne gave her a reassuring smile of her own. "You'll have to tell me more about your past, Dorothy. But now I'm afraid our lunch break is almost over."

"Oh no!" Dorothy jumped to her feet with a nervous laugh. "I have to rush. The Third Years are waiting. Thank you very much, Professor MacMillan. And you, Professor Fisher."

"Phryne will do." Phryne shook her head as she watched the young woman's retreating back. "Poor girl. The Third Years will eat her alive."

"Don't be so sure. She's a really good teacher, actually. They adore her." Mac reached for her own bag with a deep sigh. "Well, then. Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Let's see what the little beasties will make of my recipe for Shrinking Solution. I just hope the hospital wing is well prepared."

"Oh, come on, Mac." Phryne rolled her eyes at her friend. "What could possibly go wrong?"

* * *

By Thursday, it seemed as if the holidays were already a distant memory. All the teachers seemed determined to get back in stride as quickly as possible, citing the upcoming exams whenever the students complained about the workload. Jane didn't mind too much – for the most part she enjoyed schoolwork and was quite content to spend her time writing essays and practicing with her wand. However, it quickly became clear that some of the less pleasant aspects of life as a Hogwarts student hadn't changed either.

As a rule, Herbology was one of Jane's favourite subjects. This year, however, it was one of far too many classes that Ravenclaw shared with Slytherin, and she knew what _that_ meant. More than any others, the Slytherins were prone to parroting the Pureblood nonsense their parents had instilled in them from birth. In the past six years, Ruth and Jane had become quite adept at ignoring any attempts to shame or tease them for their Muggle upbringing. They were also both proficient at various jinxes and most of the other students knew better than to mess with them. Still, there were always those who had never learned when to leave well alone.

The greenhouses were kept well heated at this time of the year, and tending the plants was thirsty work, so each student kept a water bottle handy right next to their workspace. It would never have occurred to Jane to worry about that simple fact –not until she turned to find Derek screwing the top back on Ruth's bottle, glancing furtively around to make sure he wasn't watched. He hadn't noticed her, so she kept quiet, considering her options.

It had to be some sort of nasty trick or other, that much was certain. Briefly, she considered turning the tables on him and swapping the bottle for his, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Ruth's bottle was smaller and not as flashy as Derek's, so he'd likely notice the swap. Plus, Jane was Head Girl now, and she had to keep herself above such petty squabbles. On the other hand, she didn't want to involve any adults, if it could be avoided. If only-

Before she could come up with a plan, Ruth reached behind her, grasping the bottle without looking, and Jane had to act. Quickly snatching the bottle from her friend's hands, she tried to whisper an explanation.

But Ruth didn't listen. "Hey. What are you doing?" Giving Jane an indignant look, she held on tight to the bottle, unscrewing it at the same time.

"Ruth, don't!" Jane had no choice. Yanking hard on the bottle, she tried once again to pry it out of Ruth's hands, but only succeeded in spilling its contents all over her robes.

"Jane!" Ruth was really mad now, and of course Professor Beers had noticed the commotion and was coming over to check on them.

"Young ladies?" His voice was quivering with indignation. "What is the meaning of this?"

Jane bit her lip. "I am very sorry, Professor. But I had to stop Ruth from drinking. I… Someone put something into her bottle."

"Indeed?" Professor Beers raised an eyebrow. "Hand me the bottle," he demanded, and when they quickly complied, he poured a small amount of liquid onto his palm, delicately sniffing it before touching his tongue to it.

His expression turned from sceptical to angry within a heartbeat. "Venomous Tentacula juice," he declared in a tone of voice that heralded bad news. "Who can tell me what its effects are? Miss Pace?"

Kitty Pace nervously cleaned her throat. "It… It's venomous?"

The professor's expression darkened even further. "Actually, no. The plant is called _venomous_ , because it bites. But if you ingest the juice, it's _poisonous_." He shook his head in indignation. "Have I not instilled in all of you the virtue of precision? And how exactly is it poisonous, Miss Pace? Will it kill you?"

Kitty glanced around helplessly, and Jane couldn't stop herself. "No, sir." Quickly, she went on before the professor could interrupt her. "Venomous Tentacula juice is a non-fatal poison. It causes a burning sensation inside your stomach, which is disagreeable but not dangerous. And it can also affect skin colour, turning your skin bright purple."

"An excellent summary, Miss Ross." There was a kind of reluctant respect in Professor Beers' tone as he faced her again. "Now, you say you saw 'someone' put this into the bottle. Could you please enlighten us as to who that 'someone' might have been?"

Jane hesitated. She wanted nothing more than for Derek to get his just deserts, but at the same time, she really couldn't risk aggravating him and his cronies. He was glaring at her from behind a forest of gently swinging leaves of fluxweed that nearly hid him from view. Next to him, his buddy Freckles was nonchalantly cleaning his nails with a pruning knife.

"I… I'm not sure, professor." Jane lowered her gaze to the ground, hoping Professor Beers wouldn't insist. "I just saw a motion from the corner of my eyes. It could have been anyone, I guess."

"And that's your last word on the subject?" The professor harrumphed contemptuously. "Well, since you all seem to have such an abundance of free time on your hands that you can come up with silly pranks, I assume we need to find you something more challenging to do. Fortunately, the Snargaluff pods are just about ready to be extracted. If you would all follow me to the other greenhouse, please?"

There was a collective groan, and everyone began gathering their things. Derek briefly smirked at Jane and Ruth before turning away and heading for the door, followed by his cronies. Jane had a hard time hiding her fury. _Arrogant, nasty little bugger!_

"Snargaluff pods. Great. Just great!" Rose Weston rolled her eyes at them as she sauntered past. "Really, Ross, I don't see why you had to make such a fuss. It's not as if it would have made much of a difference. I mean, look at her! She looks common as muck anyway, no matter her colouring."

Kitty and Marie giggled at her words, gazing up at Rose with fawning admiration. Ruth swallowed hard, and Jane could see her eyes fill with tears.

"Shut up, Rose," she squeezed out between clenched teeth.

"I beg your pardon?" Rose gave her a look of perfect, wide-eyed innocence. "You know, you should really watch your language, Ross. My grandfather was quite correct. The kind of people they allow at Hogwarts nowadays… There really are no standards anymore."

"You-" Jane was already reaching for her wand, when Ruth's hand closed around her wrist.

"Don't, Janey." She was smiling valiantly through her tears. "It's not worth it."

And she was right, of course she was right. Jane knew it. And normally she wouldn't have had a problem coming up with a scathing comeback to Rose's snarky remarks. But Derek's nasty prank had shaken her more than she cared to admit. It was hard to keep control as Rose blew her a kiss and wandered off, calling out to Derek to wait for her to catch up. 

Well. There was one consolation at least. The first Quidditch match of the season was set for the next week, with Slytherin scheduled to play Gryffindor, and from what Kip had said, the Slytherins didn't stand a chance. Gryffindor would wipe the floor with them – and that was just what they deserved.

* * *

Phryne liked Quidditch as much as the next witch. As a matter of fact, she had decidedly fond childhood memories of her father taking her to cheer on the Appleby Arrows in their league matches. Quidditch at Hogwarts, however, brought its own set of challenges.

"There you are." Mac joined her in the stands, her Ravenclaw scarf slung dashingly across her shoulders. "Sorry I'm late. I had to check up on two of my students. A mild case of poisoning, Alice says, but they should be up and about again soon."

"Poisoning!" Phryne frowned. "I thought you were joking when you mentioned the hospital wing."

"Yeah, well." Mac sniffed disdainfully. "Katie messed up the potion. Forgot to add daisy roots, of all things, and then those stupid girls tried the finished product without waiting for me to give the green light. They're lucky to be alive."

"How can you possibly forget daisy root?" Phryne had been quite good at potions, back at school. Not on Mac's level, of course, but she had always enjoyed whipping up a draught or two. It was much like mixing a cocktail, really. "What was the girl thinking?"

"I have no idea." Mac sighed. "You know, this is really not like Katie at all. She's usually a very conscientious student. One of my best."

"Ah, well. No harm done, right?" Phryne turned her attention to the field. "Goodness, what ghastly weather!"

Mac nodded. "I'm glad we're not playing today." She gestured up at the heavy rainclouds. "It's bad luck to have rain for your first match of the season."

"Is it?" Phryne sighed deeply. "Ah, well. I just hope it won't last too long. I'm afraid my team isn't really a match for the Gryffindors, from what I hear."

"Depends." Mac shrugged expressively. "Poppy Brown is a pretty good seeker, when she puts her mind to it. And I wouldn't want to go up against Kevin and Freckles. Those two are strong, and they're mean."

"They are, aren't they?" Phryne eyed her two beaters with considerable concern. She would really have to make some changes to the dominant Slytherin mindset, if she wanted to remain head of their house. Ambition was all well and good, but complete and utter ruthlessness was a different story.

The rows had almost filled now, with the last students trickling in one by one. "Miss Fisher!" That was Jane's voice, from a few rows down. "You look great in green."

"Thank you very much, Jane." Phryne waved back.

Jane and Ruth were sporting their Ravenclaw scarves, but they were each waving a small Gryffindor flag. Next to them, Kip and Ned were all in red and gold, having foregone their Hufflepuff garb to support Gryffindor. Phryne didn't blame them. The Slytherins were notoriously unpopular, after all, and wasn't Ned's little brother a Gryffindor anyway? She vaguely recalled him bragging that Paddy had been made Keeper this year.

Talking of which… the Gryffindors seemed to be one man short, with the match about to begin, and Paddy was nowhere to be seen. At the other end of the pitch, Phryne could see Professor Mclean, who was refereeing the game, talking to Professor Collins, the Head of Gryffindor. They both seemed agitated, gesticulating wildly and stomping their feet. Eventually, Collins raised both hands in the universal gesture of resignation, his handsome face red with anger, and stomped off the pitch.

"All right, everyone." Professor Mclean's voice rang out loud and clear, magically enhanced by a Sonorus Charm. A well-executed one, Phryne had to admit – there was hardly any interference to be heard, and the vowels sounded clear and crisp. "I want a fair game, no hanky-panky. Since Paddy is missing-" An incredulous murmur rose from the ranks of the Gryffindors, but Mclean ignored it with the ease of long practice. "He will be replaced as Keeper by Badger."

This time the murmur was closer to a collective groan. Badger, who had valiantly come forward to fill in for his missing friend, was short and scrawny, and he looked scared to death. Phryne almost pitied him. Kevin and Freckles were grinning widely, hands nonchalantly resting on their bats, and the Slytherin Chasers eagerly reached for their brooms. Tom, the Gryffindor captain, gave Badger a reassuring pat on the back, but he, too, looked grim and resigned.

Phryne glanced down at Jane and her friends. Ned seemed utterly bewildered, and more than a little worried at his little brother's absence. But just then, Mclean's whistle signalled the start of the game and the players took off, rising high into the cold, grey sky.

At first, things didn't look too bad for Gryffindor. They even managed to score two goals in quick succession. But then Tom took a well-aimed bludger to the ribs and nearly tumbled off his broom, and only moments later, Freckles "accidentally" collided with Badger, nearly knocking him unconscious. From then on, it was a massacre. The Slytherin score went up at record speed as one Quaffle after the other found its aim. At first, the Slytherins were cheering loudly, but soon enough, everyone went quiet. It was just too depressing. Even the commentator fell silent.

Laurie, the Gryffindor Seeker, somehow managed to keep out of trouble by hovering high above the pitch, keeping his eyes peeled for the snitch, but really, the best he could hope for, considering the current score of two hundred forty points to twenty, was a quick end to the unfolding tragedy. When he finally dove downwards with a triumphant cry, snagging the Snitch right out of Poppy Brown's hands, it was a relief.

Around Phryne, the ranks of the Slytherins erupted into applause. Smiling politely, she murmured a few words of congratulations – this was her house, after all – but at the same time she couldn't help glancing over at the Gryffindor ranks. They all appeared shell-shocked, and wasn't that Paddy with Professor Collins, listening to the professor with a dazed, unhappy expression?

Moments later, Jane and her friends appeared at Phryne's side. "Congratulations, Miss Fisher." Kip was clearly doing his best to be fair and sportsman-like, but his expression spoke volumes. "Slytherin has a fair chance at winning the Cup, now that they're off to such a good start."

Ned, on the other hand, seemed unable to hide his feelings. "Where on Earth has Paddy been? I need to talk to him. Right now."

"Yeah, well." Jane shook her head. " You'll have to wait until Professor Collins is done with him."

The boys nodded grimly, and Kip sighed. "Let's just hope we have better luck when we play against Slytherin. No offense, Miss Fisher."

"None taken." She smiled at him. "Well, I need to be going. The Slytherins will want to celebrate." She took care to keep her tone light. "Why don't the four of you come to my room for tea and scones tomorrow afternoon? That might cheer you up."

Jane and Ruth nodded eagerly. The boys were more reserved, but they assented politely. If nothing else, they were bound to be curious.

With a sigh, Phryne got to her feet and headed for the Slytherin Common Room. She had to admit she was intrigued by how this afternoon had turned out.


	3. Chapter 3

Cursing under his breath, Hugh Collins stormed into the staff room. "Damn it! There must be a reason why-" When he noticed Phryne sitting in the comfortable armchair next to the fireplace, he broke off, blushing to the roots of his hair. "My apologies, Professor Fisher. I hadn't noticed you there."

"No apologies needed, Professor Collins. Or may I call you Hugh?" She favoured him with her most ravishing smile, noting with approval that his blush darkened further.

"Wha- Yes, of course." Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Anyway, I guess I should congratulate you. Slytherin, I mean. You beat us fair and square."

"Did we?" Phryne raised an eyebrow. "I am not so sure about that, to be honest."

"And I'm afraid I have to agree with you." Mac had appeared in the doorway, one hand raised to her lips to hide a yawn. "What did Paddy have to say for himself, Hugh? Why didn't he show up on time?"

Collins snorted. "He claims he _forgot_."

"Huh?" Mac shook her head. "I find that hard to believe. That boy lives and breathes Quidditch."

Phryne was inclined to agree. It seemed highly unlikely that Paddy would just have forgotten about the upcoming game.

"Exactly." Collins' handsome face wore an expression of sheer confusion. "It's not like him at all."

"No, it's not." Phryne tapped her nails impatiently against the armrest of the chair. "There must be some other reason. Something he doesn't want to admit, or someone he's afraid of."

"You mean-" Mac nodded slowly. "That's a possibility, definitely." They exchanged a loaded glance.

"What's a possibility?" Hugh Collins was clearly a bit slower to catch up, looking from Phryne to Mac and back with an air of bafflement. "Oh. You mean, someone could have threatened him?"

"Maybe." Phryne sighed. "I may have to have a word with my beaters."

"You mean Kevin and Freckles?" To her surprise, Collins shook his head. "I don't think so. Too subtle for them. If they wanted to get rid of Paddy, they'd knock him off his broom out on the pitch, with everyone watching. And they'd enjoy it."

Phryne made a face. "You may have a point there." Collins clearly was no fool, even if he sometimes needed a little nudging to arrive at the obvious conclusion. She aimed another dazzling smile at him. "How did you come to be Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, if I may ask?"

Collins blushed again. "I… I trained as an auror, but then I… I changed my mind." It sounded as if there was a story behind this, but Phryne decided to let it go for the moment. "My mentor recommended I try out for this position. He thought it might suit me."

"Your mentor?" Phryne knew a few people at the Auror Office, or at least knew _of_ them. "And who would that be?"

"Jack Robinson." Collins' face brightened. "He was my superior officer, and he taught me all I know."

"The name sounds familiar." Phryne frowned. "Wasn't he the one who exposed Sanderson as a dark wizard?"

Collins nodded eagerly. "Yes. At great personal risk, if I may add. Sanderson was utterly ruthless, and he had connections in all kinds of places."

"I remember." The story had made quite the headlines back then. _Corruption at the Auror Office_. Phryne had a vague memory of a picture in the _Prophet_ , a red-faced wizard with sparse white hair being restrained by a younger man. Quite an attractive younger man, if she recalled correctly. _Good cheekbones_. She sighed. "Well, there's nothing we can do right now, so we might as well have a cup of coffee and some of those delicious biscuits. And I'll see if I can gather some more information from Janey and her friends tomorrow."

"You do that." Mac's tone was dry. "What?" She exclaimed, when Collins gave her a worried look. "It's not as if I could stop her anyway. And maybe she'll find out something interesting."

"I certainly hope you will." Collins looked mournful. "We need to get to the bottom of this before something worse happens."

"You mean, worse than a lost Quidditch match?" Phryne smiled. "I agree." She was intrigued. Her teaching stint was turning out to be a lot less boring than she'd feared.

* * *

"Ice cream! Oh, Miss Fisher, you're the best!" Ruth was beaming all over as she eagerly reached for her bowl. "Thank you so much for inviting us."

Jane quietly nodded her assent. She loved ice cream just as much as her friend did, but she was too preoccupied to focus properly on the treat tonight.

"My pleasure." Miss Fisher raised an amused eyebrow at the boys who looked a tad uncomfortable and hadn't dared reach out for their bowls yet. "Go on. Have some. It's not poisoned."

"Of course not." Kip's bright blue eyes widened in shock at the mere suggestion and Jane felt her heart skip a beat. "Thank you so much, Professor. It's very kind of you to have us."

"Poppycock." Miss Fisher reached for her own bowl. "I enjoy having you here. Now…" She aimed a rather piercing look at Ned, and Jane was glad not to be in his place. "About Paddy. Did he tell _you_ why he was late?"

Ned shrugged, looking unhappy. "Just that he forgot." He seemed just as incredulous at the thought as Hugh Collins had been.

"Yeah, as if." Ruth's braids flew as she vigorously shook her head. "That just doesn't make sense."

"No." Miss Fisher slowly licked her spoon. She had that focussed expression Jane knew only too well. _Investigating_. "Do you think he's hiding something?"

"What would he be hiding?" Kip frowned, but he seemed intrigued. Thoughtfully, he chewed his lower lip, and Jane had to look away to hide her sudden blush. "You think there was foul play? By someone on the Slytherin team?"

"Well…" Miss Fisher coughed delicately. "I had considered questioning my beaters, but Professor Collins seems to think the plan would have been too complicated for them to have come up with."

"True." Jane hid a grin. _Unless, of course, someone else gave them the idea_. She could practically see the scene in her mind's eye: Derek's sneering face as he set out his plan, patiently explaining to his captive audience how to intimidate Paddy; Kevin and Freckles nodding along as his meaning slowly dawned on them… But no, it wouldn't do to let her imagination carry her away. She needed more proof first. Miss Fisher had always been very clear about that. "We'll keep an eye out for you, Miss," she said aloud. "I promise."

The conversation turned to less loaded topics, like their schoolwork and the summer holidays, and soon it was time to say goodbye. Kip and Ned left first, with polite little bows in Miss Fisher's direction. Ruth and Jane affectionately embraced their de-facto godmother and were already headed for the door when Miss Fisher stopped them in their tracks.

"Just a moment." She smiled apologetically at Ruth. "Jane, can I have a word with you? In private?"

"Of course, Miss." Jane was confused. Had she done anything wrong? She was pretty sure she hadn't.

"We won't be long. Good night, Ruth." Miss Fisher firmly closed the door behind the other girl, then turned to face Jane. She looked more worried than angry, Jane noted with relief. "Is everything all right, Jane? You were very quiet tonight."

"I'm fine." Jane felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Trust Miss Fisher to see straight through her. "Just… thinking about something."

"I see." Bright little sparks were dancing in Miss Fisher's eyes. "And that _something_ you were thinking about wouldn't have anything to do with Kip, by any chance?"

"I… No, I-" It was no use, Jane realized. Her cheeks had grown flaming hot by now, and clearly, she hadn't been as successful at hiding her feelings as she'd hoped. "I think I'm in love with him," she muttered, lowering her eyes.

"But that's lovely." Miss Fisher was completely unfazed. "And I have to say you seem to have good taste. He appears to have a good head on his shoulders and he's not bad-looking either. But where's the problem? He likes you, too, that's obvious."

"He _likes_ me, yes." Jane sighed. "But we… We've been friends forever, Miss. And he just can't seem to realize that I-" She broke off, feeling utterly embarrassed now.

"That you're interested in more than friendship," Miss Fisher supplied. "I see." She was quiet for a moment, but then her face brightened. "Well, then I guess we'll have to make him see."

"But how?" Jane felt a hint of desperation creep into her tone. "I mean, I've tried, you know, flirting with him, but he's just completely oblivious." She shook her head. "It's as if he's got this picture of me in his head as his best friend, and that means I'm just… one of the guys, or something. He doesn't even see me as a girl."

Phryne rolled her expressive eyes. "Men! Can't live without them, can't hit them with a killing curse." At a snap of her fingers, a cabinet door opened and a tumbler of firewhiskey poured itself and sailed into her hand. She took a long, thoughtful sip before facing Jane again. "I'll think of something. Now off to bed with you. Good night, Janey."

"Good night, Miss Fisher." As Jane headed for her dorm, she felt a curious sense of relief. True, Miss Fisher hadn't come up with a plan yet. But now that she was on the case, it was only a matter of time. Everything would be all right.

* * *

"What do you mean, you want to take a weekend off?" Prudence Stanley shook her head, her ample bosom quivering with righteous indignation. "My dear Phryne, this is not some sort of _office job_." Her tone effortlessly managed to convey her complete and utter disdain for that kind of occupation. "Teaching is a _vocation_. I expect you to give us your full attention while you're on my staff."

"And you shall have it, Aunt P, no worries." Phryne just barely suppressed a sigh. All around her, the scandalized mumblings from the portraits of former headmasters echoed her aunt's words. _Maybe we should have had this chat somewhere else._ "I wouldn't be away for long," she pointed out. "Just floo down for the evening, go see a show maybe, and I'd be back before sunrise."

"A show!" Her aunt's eyes rolled skyward in disapproval, and Phryne cursed her choice of words. "The _theatre_ is not the kind of entertainment a teacher should be seen at. You may not care about other people's opinion of you, my dear, but this is a respectable school and if you-"

"All right, Aunt P, all right." Phryne flinched at her shrill tone. "I understand. If you don't want me to be seen in public, we can stay in all night. Just-"

"And who exactly is _we_ in this case?" Prudence's voice was dripping with disapproval. "One of your London _acquaintances_ , I'm sure, and if you intend to spend the night down there…" She broke off, breathing heavily. "We really can't afford a scandal, Phryne."

"I know." Phryne sighed softly. She really missed Lin, but she dearly loved her aunt and didn't want to offend her. _I should just have made up a convincing excuse_. "Look, you know I can be discreet. But if it means so much to you, I'll stay."

"It does." Prudence breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Thank you, Phryne. I really have enough problems on my hands right now."

"What do you mean, problems?" Phryne frowned. As far as she could tell, things were going well at Hogwarts.

"Nothing you need to worry about, my dear." Prudence shook her head, sighing again. "Just a few… strange occurrences."

"Tell me." Phryne sat down in an armchair without being asked, which earned her a disapproving cough from a rather sour-faced lady in medieval dress in one of the portraits. "What's going on?"

"Nothing serious, I'm sure." Prudence avoided her glance. "Just… the students seem unusually scatterbrained this year. One of the Gryffindor prefects seems to have mislaid the password for their tower, can you believe that? And Arthur-"

"What about him?" Phryne felt a smile rise to her lips. She had always got along well with her cousin, even if he was a Squib and what some people would call _slow_.

"He was complaining the other night…" Her aunt rolled her eyes. "It's probably nothing. But, as you probably know, he's been helping Cec – Professor Yates, I should say - take care of the magical creatures for his class."

"I didn't know. But it's very kind of him." Phryne was glad to hear that. Arthur needed something to do, and he'd always been good with animals. Though flobberworms and the like probably didn't need much of a sensitive approach, come to think of it.

Prudence cleared her throat. "Well, usually they have a bunch of student volunteers, too, you know to help with the feeding and mucking out the stables, and the like. Arthur claims that two of them didn't show up last night, and he had to stay up half the night to do the work by himself. Very reliable students, as a rule, or so I gathered. It's just strange."

"Very strange," Phryne agreed. If she wasn’t very much mistaken, a pattern was beginning to emerge. First Mac's students, then Paddy, and now this… she wondered how many more cases of sudden forgetfulness there had been. "Do you want me to look into it?"

"And how would you do that?" Her aunt gave her a tired look. "You know you're not allowed to read their minds. This isn't an auror investigation."

"I know it isn't. More's the pity." Phryne sighed. "But I wasn't suggesting legilimency, Aunt P." _Not yet, anyway_. "Just some old-fashioned sleuthing."

"Well, as long as you don't neglect your teaching duties, I guess it can't hurt. Just be careful. We don't want anyone to suspect what you're up to." Prudence reached for a stack of papers on her desk. "Now, if there's nothing else…"

"Nothing else, Aunt P." Phryne got to her feet, winking cheerily at Sour-faced Headmistress on the wall as she did so. Another aggravated cough was her reward. "See you at dinner, then."

* * *

Squinting her eyes, Jane tried to make out the words scrawled on the ancient parchment in front of her. " _befry_ -, no _befrinan tha fulan gealdor-_ , damn, I don't think I've ever seen that one before…" She reached for _Spellman’s Syllabary_ to look up a particularly recalcitrant rune. "Ah, I've got it. _Gealdorcraeftigan_! That's it."

"Yeah, but what does it _mean_?" Next to her, Ruth sighed in exasperation. "I should never have let you talk me into taking Ancient Runes. It's hopeless."

"Aw, come on. It's not that hard." Jane turned another page in her book. "Ah, there it is, see. _Foul enchantresses_. Yeah, right. Honestly, those monks back then had an extremely vivid imagination." If she had to read another description of young girls dancing naked in the moonlight and consorting with various demons, she was going to scream.

"Well, Miss Ross?" Professor Ford had appeared behind her, stroking his rather ratty little beard with a condescending chuckle. "Any success so far? Don't worry, it _is_ a difficult passage. Maybe Tom here can help you out?" He threw a glance over his shoulder at the Gryffindor team captain, who seemed just as lost as Jane.

"I'm managing quite well, thank you, Professor," Jane said politely. "The Mercian dialect forms had me confused at first, but-"

"Of course they did." Ford sighed "Study of Ancient Runes at N.E.W.T. level is really not a suitable subject for young ladies. Far too cerebral."

"I rather like it." Try as she might, Jane couldn't stay quiet. "It's a nice challenge."

"Is it? Ah, well, it's nice to see a girl with so much spirit, I suppose." Again, he chuckled in a manner that was probably meant to sound fatherly but only succeeded in raising her hackles further. "But really, you shouldn't overtax your pretty little head with-"

Before he could finish, there was a commotion near one of the windows. Three of the Gryffindor boys were jostling for space to see what was going on outside and Tom was whistling softly. "Damn, that looks bad."

"What's going on?" Professor Ford raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Can someone please explain why you're not in your seats?"

Tom turned around to face them, looking uncharacteristically serious. "There seems to have been some sort of accident, down by the lake. The matron is down there, and Professor Yates. Looks like they've dragged something out of the water. Something big." He swallowed hard. "I hope no one has been hurt."


	4. Chapter 4

"Will Badger be okay, Professor?" Paddy's freckled face was pale as he stared up at Professor Collins with fierce determination, as if willing him to say yes. "I mean, he'll survive, right?"

Phryne couldn’t blame Paddy for worrying about his best friend. She had never considered herself faint-hearted, but when she'd first set eyes on Badger's limp little body, dragged from the Great Lake's dark and murky depths, her chest had tightened, and she'd feared the worst.

"He'll be fine, Paddy." Hugh Collins' tone was warm and soothing. "Won't he, Alice?"

Everybody's eyes turned to the matron. Phryne hadn't met her before, but so far, she was impressed with what she was seeing. Alice was a quiet, self-effacing young woman, but she had administered first aid with admirable efficiency, ignoring the crowd of people that had assembled on the lake shore. Her efforts had paid off - Badger, having coughed up copious amounts of sludgy water, was breathing again, and some colour had begun returning to his cheeks. But he was still trembling and shivering all over.

Alice sighed, digging a potion from her satchel and holding the vial to the boy's blue lips. "Drink. This should warm you up a bit."

Much to everyone's collective relief, Badger downed the whole flask, then tried to sit up, his eyes widening when he noticed all the people staring at him.

"You can count yourself lucky I saw you out there, mate." Professor Yates, looking a little worse for wear himself in his soaked clothes, gratefully accepted a sip from a tiny silver flask that Mac had produced from her vest. "If I hadn't come down to check on the selkies, Merlin knows what would have happened."

Alice nodded without saying a word, but Phryne noticed that she snuck an admiring glance at Cecil Yates, which made him blush in return. _Cute_.

"Really, man, what were you even thinking?" Paddy had reached for his friend's hand. "Why'd you go swimming at this time of the year? The water must be freezing cold."

_And why would he go swimming fully dressed?_ Phryne mentally added. The whole thing simply didn't make sense.

Badger coughed feebly. "No idea. Can't… remember." His eyes slid shut again and he sagged a little.

"Leave him alone." Collins gestured for everyone to take a step back. "We'll take him to the Nursing Wing." But as he lifted the boy on a stretcher, he threw a worried glance at Alice. "Why can't he remember?" Phryne heard him whisper. "Do you think-"

"Memory loss is not unusual in such cases." Alice shrugged. "The memory may come back later, or not at all. Poor kid. But don't worry. We'll have him patched up in no time at all. All he needs is a good night's rest and he'll be as good as new."

Phryne took a last look at the child. Badger was tossing around on the stretcher and muttering unintelligible words. _Poor child indeed_. It would take him much longer than one night to get over the nightmares.

* * *

Jane took advantage of the clouds of steam rising from her cauldron and turned around to face Kip and Ned's table, right behind hers. "How's Badger doing? And Paddy?"

She kept her voice well down. Professor MacMillan kept a tight ship in her Potions class, and she wasn't someone you wanted to cross. But they were all excited and worried, and Jane really needed to talk about Badger's accident, now, or she was simply going to _burst_.

Kip appeared fully focussed on chopping up shrivelfigs for the elixir they were working on – he had such skilled hands that it was a pleasure watching him – but Ned smiled gratefully at her.

"Badger's feeling a lot better, Matron said. But Paddy's really rattled." Ned threw a nervous glance at Professor MacMillan, but even though she had to have noticed them talking, the professor didn't raise an eyebrow. "Keeps saying how Badger could have died, and how the whole thing was fishy, and that someone had it in for them, and so on."

"Poor Paddy." Jane just barely refrained from twiddling the end of her braid, like she used to do as a kid. Her mind was racing, and it was hard to get all her ideas sorted out. "But he has a point, you know… Something isn't _right_ about the whole thing. I just know it."

"Think the Slytherins are behind it?" Ruth pretended to focus on stirring the potion, but the frown on her face indicated worry rather than concentration. "Derek and his cronies?"

"Why would they be?" Ned shrugged. "Badger practically handed them the House Cup on a platter. They have no reason to be mad at him. If anything, they should throw a party for him."

"True, but maybe…" Jane hesitated.

When she looked up, Kip had abandoned his shrivelfigs and was looking at her expectantly. It was hard to think clearly when he was all focussed on her like this. "Maybe they…"

"Go on, Jane." Kip was smiling encouragingly at her, and he had a little dimple in his left cheek, and Merlin, she really needed to get a grip on herself. "What's your theory?"

"Well, we know that Paddy has had memory lapses as well. And if someone's been… I don't know, feeding him Forgetfulness Potion or something like it, Badger could have accidentally had some." Jane felt her cheeks heat up. It sounded crazy when she said it out loud.

Kip seemed intrigued, though. "Forgetfulness Potion? How would they even get their hands on it?"

"It's not that hard to make," Jane whispered, tossing a handful of castor beans into her cauldron and sending a silent prayer to Morgana that she'd picked the correct amount. "Any First-Year kid can whip up a bottle, with the proper instructions."

"You'd need Lethe River Water, though," Ruth pointed out. "You can't just buy _that_ in any old store, and MacMillan keeps an eye on her supplies. I doubt you could just sneak it out from under her nose."

"Good point." Kip nodded. "Plus, the potion doesn't really work all that well, you know that. And once it wears off-"

Just then, Professor MacMillan cleared her throat and threw them an almost apologetic look. Chastised, Jane lowered her gaze, not without catching another look at Kip. He looked all flustered with excitement, or maybe it was just the fumes from his cauldron? Either way, his cheeks were a little flushed and his hair looked tousled, and she really wanted to brush it back from his forehead, because-

"Jane!" Next to her, Ruth snipped a finger. "Focus. I can't do this potion without you." She frowned. "Should it really be pink?"

* * *

The fire in the staff room was burning low and the lights were dimmed down for the night, yet Phryne felt no urge to head for her rooms yet. It was pleasant sitting here, sharing a drink with Mac while the wind was howling outside, and the rain was beating hard against the castle walls. She'd almost forgotten how cosy Hogwarts could be, with all the students neatly tucked away in their beds, and most of the teachers, too.

"So, no weekend in London with your handsome admirer, then?" Mac was looking pretty comfy herself, stretched out in an armchair with her feet propped up on a footstool. "Instead, you're stuck with me, up here in the middle of nowhere, drinking, what was it?" She glanced at the label on the bottle. "Well, it's a decent Scotch, I grant you, but still, all this seems oddly domestic for you."

Phryne made a face. She _did_ miss Lin, and she missed London, too – the excitement of a night out on the town, the admiring looks she would inevitably gather, the murmur of gossip surrounding her, the tinkling of the champagne glasses. And yet… "It's not too bad, actually. The company's good, for one thing." She smiled at Mac. "And besides, it's not as if things are boring around here. What with the near-fatal accidents, and the strange memory losses…"

"True." Mac reached for her glass with a sigh. "I could do with a little more boredom, to tell the truth. The whole thing worries me."

"There's probably a perfectly simple explanation." Phryne took care to keep her tone light. In her experience, nothing was gained by worrying, as a rule, and as long as they didn't know more, there was little point in speculating.

"You think?" Mac yawned widely. "Ah, well. Tell me more about your Mr Lin, then. How did you meet?"

"Ah, there was this strange accident at the theatre, involving one of the actresses in Noel's new play. Well, they _said_ it was an accident, but I immediately got suspicious. And I wasn't the only one." Phryne quickly summed up her involvement in the story and Lin's role in it, interrupted by the occasional chuckle from Mac. "The week after, Lin took me out to dinner," she concluded. "And we've been friends ever since."

"Just friends?" Mac's lips were twitching, but before she could say more, the staff room door creaked on its hinges and they both turned around to face it.

"My apologies." Hugh Collins was looking charmingly awkward as usual, his ears tinged slightly pink. "I thought everyone had left already for the night."

"Hugh!" Phryne leaned back in her chair, stretching voluptuously. "How nice to see you. Is it really that late?"

"Well, yes." Collins rubbed his neck. On second thoughts, the man seemed even more nervous than he normally did. _Fascinating_. "It's just… I was hoping to use the fireplace for a quick chat with a friend, and…"

"Oh, no problem." Phryne beamed happily at him. "You're not bothering us the least bit, right, Mac?"

"We can leave you alone if you want to." Mac got to her feet, glaring at Phryne. "Give you some _privacy_." She put just enough emphasis on the last word to make it sound like a rebuke.

Phryne, however, decided to ignore her. "If you feel that's strictly _necessary_ ," she added, with a sweet, innocent smile in Collins' direction. As if she would leave just as things were promising to get exciting!

"Oh! Oh no, it's fine." Collins cleared his throat. "I was just going to talk to Auror Robinson. Get his advice on the thing with Badger."

"Well, that sounds thrilling!" Ignoring Mac's pained snort, Phryne settled in an armchair near the fireplace. "Go ahead. We'll be as quiet as bowtruckles, won't we, Mac?"

"Suit yourself. I'm going to bed." With a last exasperated eyeroll at Phryne, Mac headed for door. Phryne watched her go but made no move to join her.

Collins opened his mouth, as if to say something, but clearly decided against it. Kneeling down in front of the fireplace, he checked his watch, then carefully added a few more coals. The flames blazed higher for a moment, crackling merrily, finally settling down to a warm, steady glow.

Moments later, the features of a man started to appear in the glowing embers, and a voice rang out through the quiet room. "Hugh? Is that you?"

It was a _nice_ voice, Phryne couldn't help thinking. Deep and measured and with a quiet authority that was quite attractive. Slowly, she inched a little closer to the fire.

"Yes, sir." Collins seemed to straighten up instinctively. "Thank you for making time for me."

"How many times do I have to tell you – it's Jack. Just Jack. You're not my subordinate anymore." Auror Robinson's tone carried a tinge of exasperation. "How are things up there?"

"Not so good." Collins coughed nervously. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"Let's hear it then." Robinson sounded a tad impatient. "If there are problems… Who's that you have with you, Hugh?"

Phryne had been straining her neck to catch a better look at the man, and in her eagerness, she had jostled Collins a little, making him lose his balance for a moment.

"Just a… colleague, sir. Jack, I mean." Hugh was talking fast. "It's Professor Fisher, the Head of Slytherin house."

"Professor Fisher?" Robinson arched an eyebrow, which made for an interesting effect in the sizzling coals. "I don't think we've met."

"No, we haven't." Phryne leaned in closer, putting on her most dazzling smile. "I'm a recent addition to the staff here. A pleasure to meet you, Auror Robinson."

"Your name does sound familiar, though." Clearly, Robinson wasn't going to waste his time on pleasantries. "Would that be Phryne Fisher, by any chance?"

"Precisely." She was more surprised than she let on. "Now, how-"

"A colleague of mine mentioned you a while ago. Auror Baxter, I believe it was." Robinson's tone was dry. "He seemed to think you were, I quote, 'a bloody nuisance'."

"Oh." Phryne was taken aback. She remembered Baxter, all too well. The man had been in way over his head, and extremely rude to boot. "I would have expected a little more gratitude on his part, to be honest. Considering I practically solved his case for him."

The corner of Robinson's mouth seemed to twitch a little, or was that just the fire flickering? It was hard to tell. "Right. Now, Collins, why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"Sir." Collins gently pushed Phryne aside so he could join the conversation again. "There have been a number of strange occurrences. Students reporting memory loss, weird accidents, unexplained absences."

He proceeded to sum up the events of the past weeks, rather neatly, Phryne thought. He probably would have made a decent auror, if he hadn't changed his mind. There were only two or three points where she had to interrupt him, to add a few more salient facts, but on the whole, he acquitted himself rather well. Robinson listened quietly, occasionally interjecting a question to ask for clarification or more details.

When Collins finished, there was a pause, as Robinson took his time to consider everything they had told him. Finally, he sighed deeply. "I can see why you're worried." He shook his head, making a few sparks fly from the fireplace. "But I'm afraid there's not a lot I can do for you at this juncture. Accidents and coincidences aren't grounds enough for the Auror Office to get involved, at least not in an official capacity."

"I know, sir. Jack." Collins sounded so disheartened Phryne wanted to hug him. "I was just hoping you could… I don't know, give me a few pointers. Things to look out for?"

Again, Robinson sighed. "You should definitely keep a list of all the strange occurrences. But you're probably doing that already."

Collins nodded eagerly.

"See if you can find any patterns, names that come up repeatedly, people who could have an interest in harming the victims of those so-called 'accidents'." Robinson was all professional now, focussed and collected, and Phryne felt a pleasant tingle in her belly. _So nice to see a competent man in action._ "You can owl me a copy of your notes, if you want, and I can have a look at them. I take it Miss Fisher is going to be involved in all of this as well?"

"Absolutely." Phryne couldn't keep quiet any longer. "I'm sure Hugh will be happy to have my help, won't you?"

"I will?" Collins cleared his throat. "Oh yes, I will. Definitely. Thank you, Professor Fisher." He was babbling a little, but Phryne found it quite endearing.

"Well, then you can both keep an eye out for further incidents." Robinson's tone seemed to vacillate between concern and amusement. "Though I hope there won't be any, of course. There's still a chance that the whole thing is just a series of unfortunate coincidences."

"But you don't think that's likely, do you?" Phryne wasn't fooled. If a busy man like Robinson was willing to spend time investigating this, it wasn't just because he wanted to do a friend a favour. He had to be genuinely concerned.

"Not very likely, no. Anything else I can do for you?" Robinson seemed to suppress a yawn and Phryne glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. He'd probably had a long day.

"You've already gone above and beyond, sir." Hugh sounded relieved. "Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it, Collins. And keep me posted. Good night, Miss Fisher." Robinson's face disappeared before they could reply.

They didn't linger for long afterwards, just exchanged a few platitudes before heading to their respective rooms.

Phryne's head was spinning. This whole evening had turned out to be a lot more interesting than she had expected. It seemed she had a proper case on her hands, up here at Hogwarts, which was the last place where she'd thought to find a use for her investigative talents. Instead of the quiet and boring year she'd anticipated, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city and its less savoury elements, she found herself smack in the middle of a mystery that promised to be as challenging as any she'd faced before.

And there was something else, almost as intriguing as the case. _Auror Robinson_. Phryne smiled to herself as the door to her rooms fell shut behind her, leaving her all alone and unobserved in the near darkness. She was rather looking forward to more conversations like the one they'd had tonight. Maybe there would even be a chance to meet the man in person. In any case, his take on the events was bound to be illuminating. And maybe he could be persuaded to-

The familiar clicking of a beak on the windowpane tore her from her musings. It was Lin's owl, drenched from the rain and looking rather bedraggled. Quickly, she untied the parcel it was carrying and sent it off to the owlery with an extra generous treat.

Slowly, she untied the string around the parcel and pulled apart the waxed cloth protecting its contents: a bottle of her favourite perfume, wrapped in a delicate silk shawl with a bold but tasteful pattern. When she unfolded it, a bit of parchment fluttered to the ground and Phryne hastened to pick it up.

_Dearest Phryne,_

_London is grey and cold and boring without your sparkling presence to light up my nights. Such a pity that you couldn't persuade your aunt to let you come join me for a few hours at least. I will have to be content with dreaming of you and imagining all the things we could do together, until I can have the pleasure of your company again.  
I hope you will enjoy this small token of my ardent affection for you, _

_Lin_

Allowing the parchment to drop from her hand, Phryne sank into a chair with a small sigh. Such a sweet message. No pressure, no hard feelings, no attempt to guilt her into anything she didn't want to do. But then, Lin knew her well enough to know she hated any kind of emotional blackmail, so he knew better than to make a scene. And at the same time, his thoughtful gifts would serve as a subtle reminder of him and the pleasures he had to offer. _Well played_. Lin was definitely one of the more fascinating men she'd ever met.

Yawning, Phryne headed for her bed. _What a night_. She had a feeling that things were about to get even more interesting before long, and she was definitely looking forward to it. After all, there were worse fates than leading an interesting life surrounded by fascinating men.


	5. Chapter 5

Cecil Yates' small cottage, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, was modest, but immaculately clean and tidy. With a fire crackling merrily in the hearth and the aroma of freshly baked biscuits rising from the oven, it seemed like an island of warmth and comfort in the cold, grey October weather. Phryne felt right at home the moment her foot passed the threshold.

"How kind of you to invite me in." She beamed at her host. "I hope I'm not bothering you. I've really just come by for a quick chat."

Yates handed her a cup of tea by way of greeting and, with a nod of his head, indicated for her to sit in a plush, high-backed armchair near the fire. Quietly, he watched her as she took a bite from the offered biscuit.

"Mmhmm, delicious." Phryne beamed at him. "I have to say, this is quite the cosy little setup you have here, Professor Yates."

"Cec, please." He smiled back, and it was one of the friendliest, most candid smiles Phryne had ever seen. "I used to dream of having my own farm when I was a kid. Had no clue I was a wizard back then, of course. But this…" He indicated their whole surroundings with a wide sweep of his arm. "This here beats being a farmer, hands down. The cottage, the beasties... Couldn't ask for a better life."

"But aren't some of the creatures dangerous?" On impulse, Phryne decided to abandon her carefully planned strategy. Cec Yates struck her as a man who would prefer a direct approach. "You see, that's why I'm really here. It's about Badger."

Cec nodded, looking pleased that she wasn't trying to beat around the bush. "What about him?"

"Well, I was wondering…" Phryne took a deep breath. "Is it possible that he was attacked by one of the creatures living in the lake? The Giant Squid maybe, or the merpeople?"

"The selkies?" He took his time answering, patiently weighing his response. "It's possible, I guess," he finally replied. "It could have been them, or maybe a bunch of angry grindylows. But if you ask me…" He raised his head and met her eyes with his bright blue ones. "I really don't think so. There were no signs of an attack, were there? Because from what Alice said-" He broke off, blushing slightly when he said the name.

"No signs whatsoever," Phryne confirmed. "No cuts or bruises, no traces of him being tied up. From what we can tell, he simply decided to go swimming fully clothed, and then forgot all about it."

"Weird." Cec shook his head. "Makes no sense, if you ask me."

Phryne nodded. She wasn't surprised about his answer. It was pretty much what she'd been thinking herself. Still, it was nice to get her thoughts confirmed. _Another item on the list ticked off._ "Now, about Alice…" She gently set down her teacup. "Have you considered-"

"Oi! Cec!" A decisive knock on the door, accompanied by a gruff voice, interrupted what had been a very promising line of conversation. "You in there?"

"Come on in, Bert." The door opened to admit a stocky man in his thirties who seemed taken aback at seeing Phryne there. Cec cleared his throat. "This is Professor Fisher, the new Head of Slytherin."

"I know who she is." The man nodded curtly at Phryne. "Professor."

"Ah, you're the caretaker, right? Mr Johnson, I believe?" Phryne extended her hand in greeting, but to her surprise, Johnson didn't take it.

"Might as well call me Bert." He took off his hat, tossing it onto an empty chair with expert aim and a good deal of nonchalance. "Most of the teachers do. Guess they can't be bothered to remember a fella's name if he doesn't belong to one of their _noble_ houses."

"All right, Bert. But then you must call me Phryne." She raised her hand in admonition. "Please. I insist. Anything else would hardly be fair and equal."

"Huh, I'll stick with 'Professor', if it's all the same to you." Bert shook his head, but he seemed to have mellowed a little. "Not like anybody else around here cares about fairness and equality."

"Professor Fisher was asking about Badger, Bert." Cec poured some tea for his friend and handed it over. It was a proper mug, Phryne noticed, not like the dainty cup he'd picked for her. "You know, the kid we dragged out of the lake."

"Yeah." Bert nodded. "I know the little bugger. He's all right. Not as stuck-up as most of the little toffs up there, with their parents swimming in galleons like friggin' leprechauns. Badger, he's a good kid. Still a pain in the-" Suddenly recalling Phryne's presence, he stopped himself just in time. "Well, they're all little imps." He turned to face her. "The kid's not in your house, isn't he? Why are you so interested in him?"

"No particular reason." Phryne shrugged. "I just thought the whole thing was odd. There's a number of weird things going on right now, and I'm a curious person."

"I bet you are." Bert raised his mug in a mute salute. "Well, Professor, if you need any help in finding out what's going on here, let me know. I may have noticed a thing or two myself."

"You have?" Phryne leaned forward in her chair. "Do tell."

* * *

The rainy autumn weather had finally let up and Professor Mason had decided to take advantage of the absence of clouds to bring the Seventh-Years up to the Tower for a practical Astronomy lesson. With a heart-felt sigh, Jane pulled her coat tightly around her shivering body as she gazed up at the familiar constellations in the dark sky above her. It was a beautiful sight, but she felt like she was literally freezing to death up here.

Next to Jane, Ruth was cursing lightly under her breath, rubbing her hands to keep them warm. "I hate her!" She glared at their teacher's silhouette, over on the other side of the observation deck. "Just because she is a freak and doesn't feel the cold doesn't mean we all have to suffer, does it?"

"Ruth! She's not a freak!" Jane felt obliged to defend Professor Mason, even though she wasn't particularly fond of the woman herself. "She's just different."

Which was, Jane had to admit, a very mild way of putting it. The Astronomy teacher was very passionate about her subject, so much so that she'd been known to hex students who couldn't remember the name of a constellation or the position of a star. She was also an eccentric, with odd habits and little care for her outward appearance.

"Just look at her!" Ruth echoed her thoughts. "Her hair looks like a bird's nest and those robes went out of fashion at least thirty years ago! And I swear, when we got up here, she was staring right through me, as if I was a ghost. Think she's been having visions again?"

"It's possible." Jane shrugged.

She didn't put much store in visions and prophecies, as a rule. Miss Fisher had always been very vocal about "superstitious nonsense", and Jane was of a rather practical disposition herself. Yet, Professor Mason, who also taught Divination, was rumoured to be a true Seer, and Jane couldn't quite suppress a tiny frisson of fear when she appeared at their side only a heartbeat later, as if conjured from thin air.

"Making progress?" Mason's voice sounded oddly jerky. "Hurry up, girls. Soon the moon will be out."

Jane and Ruth quickly returned to their assignment, and for a little while, they both worked away at their chart.

"Our teachers were so much nicer in the earlier years." When Ruth spoke again, she sounded wistful. "I miss Professor Williams. She's always so sweet."

"Yeah, she is." Jane quickly glanced around, but Professor Mason was busy swearing at one of the Gryffindor boys who'd managed to mess up his telescope's settings. "But really, Ruth, there's no point in us taking Muggle Studies anymore." There hadn't ever been much point, to be quite honest. Sweet as she was, Professor Williams hadn't really been able to teach them anything they hadn't known.

"I know." Ruth sighed. "She's just such a darling. Have you noticed the way Collins has been looking at her, by the way?"

"Professor Collins? You think he's sweet on her?" Against her will, Jane was intrigued. "Huh. I guess they'd make a cute couple. But they hardly ever talk to each other."

"I think he's shy." Another sigh from Ruth, but this one was positively dreamy. "Though I really don't know why he would be. I mean, a sheik like him…"

"Ruth!" Jane shuddered. "He's a _teacher_! And he's _old_."

"Not _that_ old." Her friend seemed undaunted. "I think he's amazing. He's been teaching some of the boys how to fight, you know."

"You mean, like duelling?" Jane frowned. "I don't think that's allowed. And besides-"

"Not duelling." Ruth rolled her eyes. "More like boxing. He's really strong, you know."

"Is he?" Jane couldn't help but grin at her friend's obvious enthusiasm. "Well, if you think he's so _amazing_ and _strong_ , maybe you ought to make your move soon. Before he and Professor Williams sort things out, I mean."

"Janey! Don't be mean." Ruth's hard little fist hit her hard in the ribs. "Besides, you're one to talk. What with you making puppy eyes at Kip all the time-"

"Quiet!" Jane felt a hot rush of blood to her face. If someone had overheard- "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Janey. I'm your best friend, and you need someone to talk to." Ruth shook her head. "And besides, I'm not blind."

"Yeah, well, _you_ aren't," Jane muttered under her breath. She felt mortified, but on the other hand, it really was nice to have someone to share her secret with. "I'm not so sure about _him_ , to be honest."

"Yeah, he's being a bit daft about it, isn't he? Want me to talk to him?" Ruth was clearly enjoying herself. "Maybe if I drop some hints-"

"No!" Much as Jane appreciated her friend's support, that was a step too far. "Miss Fisher said she'd come up with a plan," she added quickly, trying to take the sting out of her rejection. "Let's wait and see, okay?"

"Miss Fisher?" Ruth raised an eyebrow. "No offense, Janey – you know I love her as much as you do, but do you really want to take relationship advice from _Phryne Fisher_?"

"Why not?" Stubbornly, Jane raised her chin. "She definitely knows a _lot_ about men."

"Yeah, well, about a certain _kind_ of man, maybe." Ruth sniffed daintily. "I don't think Kip is much like her lovers, do you?"

"I don't know." Jane sighed. "I really don't."

In a way, Ruth was right. Kip was certainly nothing like the suave, sophisticated gentlemen Phryne tended to entertain. And Jane didn't actually want to _seduce_ him, well at least not straight away. _Later, maybe…_ Still, she had a feeling that her godmother's tips might come in handy when it came to garnering Kip's interest. After all, when all was said and done, he was a man. Well, more of a boy, really, but-

"So, you don't want me to talk to him?" Ruth sounded the teensiest bit offended.

"Not yet." Jane put her arm around her friend's shoulder, pulling her into a brief hug. "I do appreciate the offer. But let's try Miss Fisher's approach first, okay?"

"Suit yourself." Ruth shrugged. "Now, if you don't mind, we still have a star chart to fill in."

With a sigh, Jane returned to the task at hand, wondering whether she would ever stare up at a starry sky with Kip by her side, thinking romantic thoughts and whispering sweet nothings. It didn't seem very likely right now.

* * *

"Could you pass me the potatoes, please, Dot?" Phryne smiled encouragingly at her fellow teacher. "And I think Hugh needs some more, too, don't you, Hugh?"

"I don't mind if I do." Hugh nodded eagerly, and Phryne noted with approval that Miss Williams and he exchanged a shy smile as the bowl passed between their hands. "The house elves have really outdone themselves tonight, don't you think?"

"Yes, the roast is delicious." Phryne turned to face Professor Turner, on her other side. "I have missed the food at Hogwarts, I have to admit."

"I guess it's decent fare, if a bit on the heavy side." The Transfigurations teacher was clearly not too interested in exchanging platitudes. "What was your last place of work like, Miss Fisher?"

"Oh, call me Phryne, please." Phryne raised her glass in a mute salute. She rather liked Professor Turner. A very competent woman, and a good teacher, from what Jane had said. "I don't really have a career. I just… dabble. This and that, whatever tickles my fancy."

Professor Turner raised a sceptical eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak, but just then, all hell broke loose at the lower end of the Slytherin table.

Phryne was on her feet in an instant. Several students were standing in a circle surrounding two prone figures on the ground. Kevin seemed involved, if she was not very much mistaken, and his opponent was wearing Gryffindor colours.

"Tom! Tom Derrimut!" Next to her, Hugh had jumped up as well, and he sounded furious.

Quickly, they made their way down to the scene of the fight. By the time they arrived, several other students had managed to drag the two boys apart, but Tom's lip was split and bleeding profusely, and Kevin was sporting what promised to be a nasty bruise on his cheekbone.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" Hugh's face was dark red with fury. Phryne was impressed. She hadn't actually thought he had it in him. "Tom? Is this how you think a prefect should behave?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Tom's gaze was firmly fixed on the ground, and his voice was so low Phryne had to strain her ears to hear him. "I really am."

" _Sorry_ is not enough." Hugh was still livid. "I thought I'd taught you better! Now, who started this?"

Neither of the boys answered. Both kept staring at the ground, though Kevin's lip was turned up in a contemptuous snarl, while Tom's shoulders were shaking slightly.

"Well?" Phryne took a step forward. "I expect an honest answer, gentlemen."

"Maybe I can help, Professor." Derek Phillips, who had been among the students restraining Kevin, raised his hand, a solicitous look on his face. "I witnessed the whole thing, you see. And I am very sorry to say that it was definitely Tom who first resorted to violence."

"Did he, now?" Phryne felt her eyes narrow. "And why would he do that? Do you have any idea, Derek? Since you want to help so badly?"

"No, Professor." Derek's face was a picture of wounded innocence. "I really have no clue."

"You don't think he was provoked into attacking?" Phryne raised a hand to stop Hugh who'd started to intervene. "Kevin! What did you say to Tom?"

"Nothing, Professor." Kevin had resorted to a stubborn pout. It was not a good look on him, Phryne thought privately. But then, Kevin's personality didn't strike her as particularly appealing at the best of times.

"Oh, is that right?" From behind Tom, Paddy was practically screaming in protest, ignoring his friends who were doing their best to restrain him. "You nasty, lying piece of-"

"Paddy!" Hugh Collins' voice sounded like thunder, and Paddy immediately fell silent. "What did he say?" Hugh added in a more amiable tone.

"It was about Badger, sir." Paddy was glaring defiantly at Kevin, refusing to be silenced. "He said…" The boy swallowed. "He said it wouldn't have been a great loss if he'd drowned. Because he was a useless little loser and we'd be better off without him."

"I see." Phryne turned to face Hugh. "That seems like ample provocation to me. Besides, it's not like Kevin is a helpless little waif. The two of you seem pretty evenly matched, and pretty evenly at fault, too. What do you say, Professor Collins? Fifteen points from each House?"

"Twenty." Hugh's lips were set in a tight line.

"Twenty, then." Phryne nodded. "And, Kevin, if you don't learn to control yourself, you're off the Quidditch team."

"But, Professor!" Derek Phillips seemed completely flabbergasted. "Kevin is in _your_ house! And he's our best beater! You can't-"

"And a further five points from Slytherin for your abominable manners and your presumption in telling me what to do, Mr Phillips." Phryne had had more then enough.

A scandalized murmur rose from the Slytherin table, but Phryne was in no mood to be mollified. Raising both her hands to silence the students, she favoured them with her strictest glare.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me make one thing absolutely clear. I am Head of House Slytherin, and I've always been very proud to belong to such a distinguished and formidable house. And as long as you behave with honour and basic decency, I'll be more than happy to have your back, against anyone and anything. However, …" She paused for effect. "If you think, even for one moment, that I am going to take the side of bullies, liars, and sycophants – you may have to look up that last one, Mister Phillips – then you have a big surprise coming your way. Understood?"

The Great Hall was eerily quiet as she finished. Derek swallowed hard, then took a step back. "Understood, Professor."

"Good. And if I catch any of you giving Paddy a hard time for having the courage to tell the truth, they're going to be in deep trouble." With a last sharp glance at Kevin, Phryne gestured for the students to disperse. "Let's get back to dinner. Hugh?"

Next to her, Collins nodded grimly, and together they headed back to the teacher's table. But they had barely settled down when there was a commotion near the door and Professor Butler walked in, looking tense and worried. He went straight to the big lectern, raising his wand to his throat to amplify his voice. The students fell silent, staring at him in surprise.

"Has anyone seen Lila Waddington?" Professor Butler seemed uncharacteristically serious. "It appears she has been missing since breakfast."


	6. Chapter 6

"I assure you, Mr Waddington, that we are making every possible effort to determine Lila's whereabouts." Prudence Stanley was a formidable woman and not about to be intimidated by a worried parent. Yet, Phryne couldn't help but notice a slight trembling of her lower lip. Aunt P didn't take Lila's disappearance lightly.

"This is my daughter we're talking about, Headmistress." Lila Waddington's father was a burly, thick-necked man with a loud, vulgar voice and a florid complexion indicative of a choleric nature. His exquisitely tailored robes spoke of considerable wealth, and he was clearly used to getting his own way. "You'd better find her soon, or there will be consequences."

The Heads of all four Houses had been called to the Headmistress's Office to discuss the situation. On arriving, they had found Mr Waddington pacing the length of the room, cursing under his breath and glaring at them with barely concealed contempt.

"We have searched all the dorms and the common room, to no avail." Professor Butler was looking pale and worried, and Phryne's heart went out to him. Lila was in Hufflepuff house, so he had to feel especially responsible. "Our caretaker, Mr Johnson, is checking the dungeons as we speak. Ah, there he is."

Bert entered the room, shaking his head quietly. "I'm sorry, Professor. No sign of her."

"This is intolerable!" Mr Waddington's fist came crashing down on the Headmistress's desk. "I won't stand for this. I have friends at the Auror Office, you know."

"Surely there's no need to involve the aurors at this point." Mac raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Maybe it's all just a misunderstanding. Maybe-"

She was interrupted by a commotion near the fireplace. The flames flared green, and moments later, the silhouette of a man in plain dark robes emerged. "Ladies and gentlemen, Headmistress." Stepping forward, the man inclined his head in greeting. "Jack Robinson, from the Auror Office. I hear one of your students has gone missing."

"Sir!" Hugh Collins' expression was a mixture of surprise and genuine pleasure. "How come you-"

"I am here at the Head Auror's special request, Professor Collins." Jack Robinson nodded in Hugh's direction, and Phryne read a clear warning in his eyes. "Mr Waddington."

"Well, of course we appreciate your help in finding Lila, Mr Robinson." Aunt P grudgingly extended a hand in greeting. "Though I really don't see what you can contribute at this juncture."

"Thank you, Headmistress." Robinson's tone was crisp and businesslike. "Maybe you could start by introducing me to the present company?"

"Certainly." Aunt P nodded toward the assembled teachers. "Professor Butler is the Head of Hufflepuff, Lila's House. I believe you know Professor Collins, Head of Gryffindor, and the two ladies are Professor MacMillan, Head of Ravenclaw, and Professor Fisher, Head of Slytherin. And this is our caretaker, Mr Johnson."

"My pleasure." The auror's watchful glance took them all in, lingering for a moment on Phryne's face. He really had amazing cheekbones, Phryne couldn't help but notice, and a very expressive mouth. "Now, can we just get the facts straight. Lila was last seen…?"

"At breakfast this morning." Professor Butler seemed glad to be able to help. "When she didn't show up for any of her classes, the teachers assumed she was ill – we've had a number of students coming down with colds recently. But she didn't report to the Hospital Wing either, as would have been appropriate if she felt under the weather." He shook his head. "I should have been informed earlier. But no one thought-"

"Understandably so." Jack Robinson raised a hand to interrupt him. "I take it the dormitories have been searched already?"

"Yes, and the common room as well." Professor Butler nodded. "Mr Johnson has been very helpful."

"No sign of her down in the dungeons or in the owlery either." Bert sounded gruff. "I've checked all the towers, too, just to be sure. Nothing."

"Hm." Robinson considered for a moment. "What about the house elves?"

"I asked them." Bert sighed. "They say they haven't seen her. I'm thinking we could ask the Fat Friar. Or Peeves."

There was a brief moment of silence. No one fancied the idea of an interview with the temperamental poltergeist, that much was clear.

"We should all check in with our resident ghosts." Mac sighed. "I'll see if I can track down the Grey Lady. She's shy, but she's a kind soul. I'm sure she wouldn't want any harm to come to Lila."

Phryne almost envied Mac. A conversation with the Bloody Baron promised to be far less agreeable. "You think Lila is still inside the castle?" she asked.

Robinson nodded. "So far, we have no reason to assume otherwise. Unless… Does Lila have her Apparition license, Mr Waddington?"

"Even if she did, she couldn't apparate from any spot on the Hogwarts grounds." Phryne's mind was racing. "So, unless she just walked away-"

"What about her broomstick?" Jack Robinson was clearly nothing if not thorough. "Have you checked?"

"The brooms are all locked in the Quidditch shed." Hugh Collins shook his head. "Besides, I doubt she went flying in this weather."

"Could you double check, just to be sure?" The auror tilted his head just the tiniest bit to the side.

"Of course." Hugh headed for the door without a moment's hesitation. Phryne had to hide a smile. Clearly, old habits of obedience died hard.

"And in the meantime, …" Robinson reached for a notepad and a quill. "What can you tell me about Lila, Mr Waddington? Anything in particular that I should know?"

"Nothing I can think of." Waddington seemed taken aback by the question. "She's a good girl. Quiet. No trouble."

"I see." Robinson kept his voice neutral. "Any siblings?"

"Just her brother. He finished school last year. Works with me." Waddington's face turned a shade darker. "What does he have to do with her disappearance?"

"In all probability, nothing, Mr Waddington." The auror scribbled down a few words. "And your wife? Do you think she could shed any light on this affair?"

Waddington's bluster collapsed with a suddenness that was almost sad. "She… She won't be able to help us. My wife is a patient at St Mungo's. In the Janus Thickey Ward."

Phryne flinched internally. Everybody in the room knew what that meant. The place where the victims of permanent spell damage ended up. Damage to the brain, in most cases. _Poor Lila_. She wondered what exactly had happened to the girl's mother.

"Right." Robinson's voice cut through the silence that had descended. "Well, there is little we can do tonight, except hope that Lila shows up soon. And there's a very good chance that she will. What about the brooms, Professor Collins?"

Hugh was already back, panting a little with the effort of running. "All accounted for, sir."

"Good. We can organise a proper search tomorrow, and I'm sure we will find Lila, Mr Waddington. Provided she doesn't just wander into the Great Hall before that." There was genuine warmth in the auror's gaze as he looked at Mr Waddington. "Don't worry, Mr Waddington. We will do what we can."

"You'd better." Waddington tried to keep up his glare, but his heart clearly wasn't in it. "See you all tomorrow then."

When the door fell shut behind him, the feeling of relief was almost tangible.

Phryne turned to face Robinson. "Where are you staying, Auror Robinson?"

"At the Hog's Head, down in the village. The Office has booked a room for me there." Robinson was already gathering his notes.

"Really, Aunt P?" Phryne couldn't believe her ears. "Can't we put the auror up somewhere here in the castle? The Hog's Head is a rat trap."

And that was putting it mildly. The last time Phryne had set foot in the place, it had taken her days to get the stains and the sawdust off her slippers, and she doubted the rooms upstairs were any cleaner than the taproom. Not to mention the fact that the pub's usual clientele wouldn't be enthusiastic about having an auror in their midst.

"Well, I don't know…" Aunt P seemed put out by her suggestion. "I don't think it would be proper-"

"I can assure you I'm quite satisfied with my accommodations, Professor Fisher. I've had worse." Grabbing his hat, Jack Robinson inclined his head in farewell before stepping into the fireplace. "I'll be back in the morning. See you then."

* * *

"I'm telling you, it doesn’t make sense." Ruth shook her head forcefully, making her long braids fly. "Why would Lila be anywhere near the greenhouses? She doesn’t even like Herbology."

"We need to search everywhere on the grounds, Professor Macmillan said," Jane reminded her. "They’ve already checked all the obvious places."

"But where can she be? This isn’t like Lila at all." Kip's eyes narrowed in thought.

"No, it isn’t," Ned agreed. "She’s been gone for more than a day now. Do you think-" He broke off.

None of the others in their little group of four answered, even though they were probably all thinking the same thing. _Something must have happened to Lila. Something bad._ And yet, none of them wanted to come out and actually say it, as if by avoiding the words, they could prevent them from being true.

They had spent all morning looking for Lila, as had all the other students in Year Seven and most of the teachers. The younger kids had been gathered all day in the Great Hall, supervised by Professor Williams and Professor Radix.

"I’m sure she's fine." Jane winced at the sound of her own voice, too bright, too cheerful.

"Let's split up," Ruth suggested. "Two people to each greenhouse, that's faster. You coming with me, Ned?"

Ned seemed a little confused, but he didn't object when Ruth grabbed his arm, winking at Jane as she dragged him off. Jane just barely suppressed a mortified groan. If Kip noticed Ruth's rather obvious manoeuvre... But fortunately, he appeared oblivious, too preoccupied by his thoughts to notice her antics. _Just as well_.

"Poor Lila. I hope she isn't scared or hurt, wherever she is." Courteously, Kip held the door open for Jane as they entered the first greenhouse.

He sounded genuinely concerned, so much so that Jane felt a slight tinge of jealousy. _Would he be just as worried if it was me?_ She told herself off immediately. Lila was in Kip's house, and he knew her well. Of course he cared. Besides, Kip always thought about other people's feelings. It was one of the things she liked best about him.

Maybe it was because he, too, hadn't had it easy growing up. Kip's parents had died when he was still a kid, leaving him with several younger siblings who looked up to him, and Jane knew he had done his best to live up to the responsibility. Being the only wizard in his family, it had been tough for him to go off to Hogwarts and leave the little ones in his grandmother's care. He wrote to all of them regularly, but sometimes he looked sad, and Jane would have loved to comfort him.

They went all the way to the back of the greenhouse, searching every corner and calling out Lila's name, but she was nowhere to be seen. Jane felt tired and hopeless, and some part of her wanted to sit down and cry. Not that she would, of course. She was tougher than that.

"Hey." Just then, Kip took her hand, squeezing it briefly, and her heart nearly skipped a beat. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine." Tentatively, she smiled at him, feeling her heart pound against her ribs, when he smiled back. He was still holding her hand, and it felt so right, and for a moment she wondered if she dared-

"You coming?" Ned's brisk call broke the mood like a bucket of ice water, and Kip dropped her hand immediately. "We've got five more greenhouses to search."

"Of course." Suppressing a sigh, Jane headed for the door. There were more important things to think of right now than her own dreams of romance.

* * *

The staff room was crowded to the limit of its capacity. All the comfy chairs were taken, and Phryne barely managed to squeeze through the assembled teachers on her way to the tea urn, where Dorothy Williams was solicitously pouring out cups for everyone. _Good thinking_ , Phryne thought. Both teachers and students had spent the whole day fruitlessly searching for Lila Waddington, and the calming effects of a good cuppa were much appreciated at this point. They were all tired and shaken by her unexplained absence.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly harmless explanation." _Well, maybe not all of us._ Professor Ford, the teacher for Ancient Runes, was holding forth near the fireplace, gesturing expansively. "You know how scatterbrained girls that age can be."

"You think so, old chum?" Professor Radix, who taught Arithmancy, thoughtfully stroked his goatee. "Scatterbrained, yes indeed. She's probably holed up somewhere reading a silly romance novel or some such stuff and has lost track of time."

"Holed up with a book for a whole night and a day?" Phryne had a hard time keeping calm in the face of such a ridiculous claim. Besides, Old Radix was in no position to call anyone scatterbrained. He had already been teaching when she was a student at Hogwarts, and he'd been notoriously absent-minded even then. His statement was clear proof that a good head for numbers didn't automatically guarantee a decent amount of common sense.

"Begging your pardon, gentlemen, but Lila Waddington is a very conscientious student. She wouldn't just disappear for such a long time." Professor Butler did a good job of hiding his anger, but Phryne wasn't fooled.

"She is," Professor Turner agreed. She had claimed a seat next to the window and kept glancing out at the night sky. "And she also seems rather timid, if you don't mind me saying so. I can't imagine her spending a night outside her dormitory without a good reason."

"Well, maybe there was a good reason. Maybe the girl had an amorous assignment." Professor Ford winked suggestively at Hugh Collins, who had the grace to look embarrassed. "A rendezvous with a secret admirer."

"And somehow that thought completely fails to reassure me," Mac muttered drily. She and Phryne exchanged a worried glance.

"What do you think, Professor Fisher?" Dot Williams appeared at Phryne's side, having abandoned her place at the tea urn. She had a set of magical knitting needles in her lap, and they were furiously clacking away at what appeared to be half a baby hat. "It's for my sister's kid," she explained, when she noticed Phryne looking. "But really, do you think Lila could have run off with a boy?"

"Do _you_ think so, Dot?" Phryne raised an eyebrow. Lila hadn't struck her as the adventurous type, far too shy and withdrawn. A bit temperamental, maybe, but that was only to be expected at her age. Though, with her mother being locked up at St Mungo's, one couldn't help but wonder-

"No, Miss." Dot shook her head decisively. "Lila wouldn't do that. She's a good girl. And I believe-"

"Aaaaaah!" A deep, guttural cry made all heads turn to the corner of the room where Professor Mason had hidden away. The Divination teacher was looking especially eccentric today, clad in a wild assortment of clashing colours and with her thick dark hair all tousled. But it was the expression on her face that made Phryne flinch. Her eyes had turned upwards, so far that only the whites were showing, and her delicate features were contorted in an ugly rictus. "Aaaaah!" Another cry joined the first.

"For Merlin's sake, Beatrice!" Professor Turner was on her feet already, heading for the corner, but Mac stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist.

"Don't." Her expression was grim. "She's in a trance. If you interrupt it-"

"It's dark." Professor Mason's voice sounded weirdly hollow, not really like herself at all. "So dark. So cold. So lonely." She sobbed once. "Poor girl. Poor little girl."

"You think she's seeing Lila?" Dot had turned deathly pale, and Phryne instinctively took her hand.

"It's hard to say." She took care to keep her tone calm and rational. "That type of vision isn't necessarily very useful or practical."

"I'll say." Professor Turner snorted, but she had taken a step back. "If you ask me-"

"The trees!" Professor Mason was speaking again, swaying from side to side now, as if she was imitating the movement of a tree in the breeze. "Will they protect you, little one? Oh, my poor, poor girl. There's a reason they call it the Forbidden Forest, you know. No place for children. Not safe, no, not at all." Once again, she cried out, her whole body going rigid, and then she slumped to the ground, trembling all over.

Phryne was at her side in a heartbeat. "Get Alice, quick." From the corner of her eyes, she saw Cec disappear through the staff room door. _Good_. Gently, she felt Beatrice Mason's pulse. It was weak and irregular, and her hands were cold as ice.

"Try this." Mac had appeared right next to her, handing her a little vial. "Draught of Peace," she explained. "It should help her settle down. She's had that kind of episode before."

"But won't it send her to sleep?" Phryne bit her lip. "I had hoped we could question her-"

"She needs to rest." Mac threw her a sharp glance. "Look at her."

"I can see that. But what if Lila-"

"I wouldn't put too much store in her ramblings, my dear Professor Fisher." Professor Ford hadn't moved from his spot near the fireplace. "Simple hysterics, if you ask me. A common affliction in young women, especially unmarried ones."

"Or so it was thought in Aristotle's times." Professor Turner's tone was clear and strident, and Phryne couldn't help but smile at her words. It was nice to hear a voice of reason. "But I agree that Professor Mason needs to rest. We can hardly send out more search parties at this time of the day, anyway."

"Especially not into the Forbidden Forest." Cec had returned, with Alice by his side. The young matron immediately took charge of the situation, examining the patient quickly while conferring in a low voice with Mac. "It's too dangerous out there as soon as night falls, what with the wolves and the bugbears, and the spiders. I do fear for the little lass, if she's really been out there all the time, all by herself."

Phryne nodded slowly, watching them fuss over Professor Mason. _Yes. So do I._


	7. Chapter 7

There had been a long debate on whether the Seventh Year students should be allowed to help search the forest. Several of the teachers had thought it too dangerous to include them, among them Professor Ford who had suggested taking only the boys since the girls were, in his words, "too delicate". In the end, practical reasons had prevailed – they simply needed more people if they wanted to have a realistic chance of finding Lila.

To keep the students safe, they had been told to form small groups and keep close to a teacher. There was some grumbling about that, especially among the Slytherin boys, but Jane was happy to stick together with Ruth, Ned, and Kip. Professor Butler went with them, clad in sensible tweed robes and a deerstalker hat that suited him quite well.

"This is like searching for a needle in a haystack." With a critical frown, Ruth examined a jagged tear in her robes. "I mean, the forest is huge, and we have no clue where Lila could be."

"Not quite correct, Ruth." Professor Butler shook his head, his tone gently admonishing. "Cec – Professor Yates, that is – has spent several hours going through the details of her vision with Professor Mason, and they were able to narrow it down a bit. See?" He pointed to a prickly vine crossing their path, the one that had ruined Ruth's robes. "Blackguardly brambles. They only grow in certain parts of the forest. She also noticed some Asphodel plants, apparently, and the faint sound of a Screechsnap in the distance."

"Ah, yes. The vision." Jane nodded politely, but she had a hard time hiding her skepticism. "It must have been quite… vivid, from what Professor Fisher said."

Professor Butler gave her a sideways glance but didn't reply. Jane wondered whether he did believe in visions and prophecies. The idea had always seemed too fantastical to her to put much store in – though, come to think of it… Here she was, stumbling through a magical forest that was rumoured to be home to centaurs, unicorns and giant spiders. Wasn't her whole life at Hogwarts a bit too fantastical to believe, if you looked at it from a Muggle perspective? With a sigh, she turned to face Kip.

He was smiling at her, that little crooked smile that made his dimples come out. "What is it, Jane? Do you think Professor Mason sent us on a wild goose chase?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Jane bit her lower lip. "It's just-"

But before she could put her doubts into words, a sound like a thunderclap rang out and a shower of multicoloured sparks went up from a wand about a hundred yards to the right of them. The signal!

"They've found her!" Professor Butler's tone vacillated between relief and apprehension. "Merlin, I just hope…" He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to. They all were thinking the same thing.

Quickly, they made their way over to the place where the flare had come from. It wasn't hard to find. All around them, other small groups were headed in the same direction, some talking excitedly, others tense and silent. It seemed to take forever to get there, but finally they arrived at a tiny clearing surrounded by venerable beech trees and thick patches of knotgrass.

Cec Yates was there, cradling a limp body in his arms, with Arthur right by his side. Jane couldn't see his face, and for a moment she feared the worst. But then the girl in his arms shifted, moaning quietly, and Jane closed her eyes in relief. _She's alive_.

"Arthur found her." Professor Yates raised his head, and now she could see that he was beaming from ear to ear. "Practically stumbled over her, where she was lying hidden in some shrubs."

Everyone cheered at his words, but Arthur looked confused and uncomfortable with all the attention, doing his best to hide behind Cec. Just then, Auror Robinson walked into the clearing, and at the sight of him, Arthur seemed to shrink even further.

"Well done, Arthur." And there was Aunt Phryne, looking just as impeccably elegant as always, in black pants and a jaunty cape with a matching hat. Gently, she embraced her cousin and led him off to the side. "We are so very grateful you found her."

The auror gave her a quick, sharp nod and proceeded to join Cec. Jane saw him gently take Lila's hands and mutter a question – she couldn't quite make out the words. Lila's face was a picture of confusion. Her robes were badly torn and stained, and she looked pale and queasy. _She must be starved_. 

One by one, all the other search parties arrived, and soon the little clearing filled up. And finally, the matron was there, too, kneeling at Lila's side and feeling her pulse. Auror Robinson got to his feet and turned to the assembled crowd. "Lila will be fine. It's time for everyone to go back to the castle. Thank you all for your help."

Jane and her friends lingered for a moment. She really wanted to talk to her godmother, but Miss Fisher was still deep in conversation with the auror. Jane noticed how close they were standing, and how animated her face seemed, her eyes all sparkly and bright. _She likes him_. The auror's expression was serious, as he was listening quietly, and Jane wondered what he was thinking of the whole situation. At long last, he nodded and turned away to speak to Professor Collins, who always seemed a little nervous in his presence.

"Jane!" Miss Fisher had spotted them and was walking toward them. She nodded at Ruth, Kip, and Ned. "You lot were quite close when Lila was found, weren't you?"

"Not close enough to actually see it." Jane took her godmother's arm, pulling her to the side. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course." Miss Fisher nodded agreeably. "We can all walk back together. What is it?"

"It's just…" Jane hesitated, unsure how to begin. "Now that Lila has been found, will there be an investigation? I mean, we still don't know why she disappeared, do we?"

"No, we don't." Miss Fisher sighed. "And it seems unlikely we'll find out any time soon. Lila seems to have no idea what has happened and how she got here."

"Just like Badger." Several people turned their heads in their direction, and Jane flinched. She really had to keep her voice down. "Someone is messing with people's memories."

"It certainly seems like that. But we have no idea who it is." Miss Fisher smiled encouragingly at her. "Unless you have a theory?"

"Well, what about Professor Mason?" The thought had tormented Jane ever since Lila had been found. "I mean, how else could she have known where Lila was?"

"Ah." Miss Fisher was quiet for a moment. "So, you don't believe it was a real vision? I don't know, Jane. I was there when it happened, and I can assure you that it would be hard to fake that kind of trance. Professor Mason doesn't strike me as an accomplished actress, and not as dishonest either. And besides, if she really was behind Lila's disappearance, why would she point us in the _right_ direction?"

"But couldn't she just have convinced herself that it was a vision, Miss?" Jane was talking faster now, eager to convince her godmother. "I mean, maybe she really _knew_ where Lila was all the time, but she repressed the knowledge, and then she felt guilty and her unconscious-"

"I see you've been reading the book by Mr Freud that I recommended." Miss Fisher sounded faintly amused. "Just remember to take it all with a grain of salt, Janey. I am really not sure all his conclusions are valid."

"Yes, but-" Jane took another deep breath. "It's possible, isn't it? I mean, Professor Mason isn't exactly _normal_ , and-"

"I don't know about that." Phryne Fisher stopped in her tracks, suddenly serious again. "She's a bit eccentric, for sure, but that doesn't mean she's mad. By that logic, I'm not sure I would count as completely sane either."

"I guess you're right." Jane felt chastened. "But you're not ruling out Professor Mason yet?" she added hopefully.

"I'm not ruling out any suspects so far." There was a familiar look on Miss Fisher's face, all determination and focus. "And tonight, I'm going to discuss the whole thing with the auror in more depth. Don't worry, Jane. We'll get behind this."

Jane's heart beat faster, and at the same time, a curious sense of calm enveloped her. With Miss Fisher on the case, whoever was behind all of this didn't stand a chance.

* * *

The Hog's Head hadn't changed for the better since Phryne's last visit, but at least the taproom was so noisy and crowded that they ran little chance of being overheard. She quickly secured three seats at the bar and ordered three glasses of Blishen's Firewhisky, the good stuff. Jack Robinson accepted his with a grateful nod. Hugh briefly opened his mouth, as if to protest, but a wry look from his former superior silenced him.

"Well…" Jack Robinson raised his glass, his eyes meeting Phryne's. "Here's to finding Lila Waddington. Thank Merlin she's alive and well."

"I'll gladly drink to that." Phryne took a long, lingering sip. "Though we still don't know what's behind her prolonged absence, and I do intend to find out, one way or the other."

His eyebrow flew up at this, and he tilted his head a little to the side. "Miss Phryne Fisher. They tell me you've dabbled in mysterious disappearances and the like before."

"Indeed I have, and with considerable success." Phryne wondered who had filled him in on her previous adventures. Not just Baxter, hopefully. "But I have to admit that this particular case has me stumped. If only we could get some information from Lila. But she has no idea what's going on."

"Just like all the others. Paddy, Badger…" Hugh Collins' jaw was clenched tightly. "None of them remembers a thing, and that just doesn't make sense, even if they were traumatized."

"Hmm." Robinson thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Reminds me of the McGinty case, some years ago. Delightful old lady, who turned out to be a powerful charm-worker. She used to break into people's homes and immobilise them with a Full-Body Bind Curse while she went through all their stuff for valuable heirlooms."

"And then she used memory charms to make people forget they'd ever seen her," Phryne finished triumphantly. "Yes, I remember reading about her in the _Daily Prophet_ back then. Quite an amazing amount of criminal intent for a little old lady."

"You'd be surprised at some of the stories I could tell you about little old ladies." Jack Robinson's face remained perfectly serious. "From what I hear some of them even dabble in murder investigations."

"Fancy that!" Phryne favoured him with her blandest smile. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of being baited. "Still, none of this answers our most pressing question. Why would anyone take it upon them to manipulate our students' memories?"

"Well, the obvious answer would be because the affected students knew something. And someone doesn't want that something to become public knowledge." Robinson's expression had turned all focussed and intense again. It was a good look on him. "What do you think, Collins?"

"A hidden love affair, maybe?" At the sight of their doubtful faces, Collins blushed. "Sorry. I really have no idea, sir. Jack. I'm not really up to date on staff room gossip, but maybe Professor Fisher…"

"I'll get the ladies together and see what I can find out from them." Phryne took another sip from her glass, relishing the whisky's hot caress all the way down her throat. Whatever else could be said about the Hog's Head, at least the liquor was decent. "Besides, some of my Seventh Years are on the case for me. Jane Ross and her friends. If the students know something, maybe they can find out about it."

"They better be careful." Jack Robinson's forehead wrinkled in a worried frown. "If whoever is behind this realizes what they're doing-"

"Jane is a tough cookie. She can look after herself, and so can Ruth." Phryne smiled affectionately. She was insanely proud of how well her two protégées were doing at Hogwarts. "Besides, maybe we worry too much. Maybe now that the Auror Office has been involved, our perpetrator will back off and leave well alone."

"That would certainly be the best possible outcome." Robinson nodded. "Let's hope you're right."

"Though on the other hand, that would probably mean we wouldn't see _you_ again up here any time soon, Auror Robinson." Phryne fluttered her lashes at him. "Such a pity, considering we've only just met. I was rather looking forward to getting to know you better." She added a tiny inflection to the last sentence, just enough to make it sound less than innocuous.

Hugh Collins nearly choked on his firewhisky, but Jack Robinson ignored him with the ease of long practice. He seemed remarkably unflustered by her words, or maybe he was just really good at playing it cool. "Ah, there's really not much to know about me, Miss Fisher. I am a simple man."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." Phryne licked her lips. "Come on, Mr Robinson. Tell me a little about you. Any hobbies?"

"My duties at the Auror Office don't leave me much time for frivolous interests." He shrugged, but if she wasn't very much mistaken, there was a hint of a smile playing around his expressive mouth. "Let me see… I used to collect Chocolate Frog Cards as a boy. I read a lot, whenever I find the time. And I was a decent Seeker during my time at Hogwarts."

"Were you now?" Phryne practically purred the words. "Yes, I can imagine you being quite observant. And good with a broomstick. Do you still play?"

"Not anymore." Robinson shook his head with a regretful look. "We used to have a team at work, back when Hugh was still around. Remember, Collins?"

"Of course, sir!" Hugh Collins was beaming from ear to ear. "Auror Robinson was really good, you know. Quidditch is in his blood." He turned to face Phryne. "A lifelong Wimbourne Wasps fan, I'm afraid, but-"

"Wimbourne? Ugh." Phryne couldn't believe her ears. "The old enemy?"

"Yes!" Collins' face was more animated than she'd ever seen him. "Are you an Appleby gal then, Miss Fisher?"

"I most certainly am." Phryne nodded emphatically. "Arrows forever and ever. Just like all my family before me."

"Mine, too." Collins raised his hand. "Barkeep. Another round, please."

As soon as all their glasses had been refilled by the grumpy wizard behind the bar, he turned toward Phryne. "Let's drink to this. I hadn't expected to meet another Appleby Arrows fan up here."

"Yeah, well." Robinson's tone was dry as dust. "They're few and far between, or so I'm told."

Phryne decided to let that go for the moment. "You're from an old wizarding family then, Hugh?"

"As old as the hills, but not particularly glamorous." Hugh's accent had gotten a little more pronounced, Phryne noticed. Maybe it was the whisky, or maybe he was just beginning to feel a little more comfortable around her. "The Collinses have been aurors for five generations, ever since the Auror Office was founded." He sounded proud, but also a little wistful.

"And yet, you decided on a different career." Impulsively, Phryne placed her hand on his. "That was really brave of you."

"I'm not sure about brave." Collins swallowed. "But, I'm happy here."

"And we're very glad to have you." Phryne gently patted his wrist before withdrawing her hand. " I bet Dot would agree." She winked at him.

"Dot?" Robinson who had watched the whole scene quietly, leaned a little forward. "I don't think you've mentioned her before, Hugh."

"I… Well, she… I wasn't…" Collins was stuttering so adorably that Phryne took pity on him.

"Dorothy Williams is our teacher for Muggle Studies. And a very lovely young lady indeed." Phryne hid her smile behind the rim of her glass. "Well, Auror Robinson. I'm afraid it's time to call it a night. You're leaving for London in the morning, I presume?"

"Yes." Robinson nodded his assent. "With Lila safely returned, there's really no longer a reason for me to stay. And as you said, hopefully there will be no further trouble."

"Oh, I don't know." Phryne sighed deeply. "Trouble has a tendency of finding me, I'm afraid."

"Well, send me an owl when it does." Robinson got to his feet with a little nod in her direction. "Miss Fisher." His eyes lingered on her face a little longer than strictly appropriate. "Have a good night. You, too, Collins."

"Good night, Auror Robinson." Phryne reached for her cape, wrapping herself tightly in the warm, cozy fabric as she followed Collins out of the room. If more trouble meant spending more time with Jack Robinson, she definitely wasn't opposed to it. She had thoroughly enjoyed their little get-together tonight.

* * *

"I'm telling, you, give it back, Marie!" Oh, but Ruth was furious! Jane wasn't sure she'd ever seen her best friend so angry before. Ruth's lower lip was trembling with righteous indignation and her large dark eyes were getting dangerously moist. Unfortunately, she was one of those people who were prone to crying when they were enraged – a fact that didn't do her any favours in her current predicament.

"Awww, look at poor little Ruthie. Close to tears because you took her stupid diary." Rose exchanged a malicious grin with Kitty. "Come on, Marie. Let's hear what she has to say!"

"No, don't!" In vain, Ruth tried to snatch the diary from Marie's hands, but the other two Slytherin girls were holding her in a firm grip. "I hate you, Marie. I really do."

Jane watched in impotent fury, struggling in vain against the magical ropes that held her back. Damn it, since when did Rose have enough skill to master an Incarcerous Spell? All those extra Transfiguration lessons with Professor Turner really seemed to have paid off for her.

Jane considered crying for help, but it was unlikely anyone would just walk by this secluded spot, down in the Dungeons. They really should have gotten suspicious the moment Rose suggested meeting her there.

"Let me go, Rose!" she forced out between clenched teeth. "Leave Ruth alone."

"But we're having so much fun, aren't we, Marie?" Rose giggled happily. "Come on, read it aloud! Let's hear it for Ruth's deepest, darkest secrets."

"Marie, please!" Ruth was really crying now, and Jane's heart was bleeding for her.

Briefly, she wondered how Marie had managed to sneak into Ravenclaw Tower - after all, she wasn't exactly the sharpest pencil in the box. It was hard to imagine her solving the daily riddle without help.

"Hmmm, let's see, what have we got…" Marie was _really_ enjoying herself, that much was obvious. "Boring, boring, even more boring… Ooooh, but this is fascinating, listen: _Jane is still mooning over Kip, poor dear. If only she wasn't so shy about it, I'm sure they could sort it all out in a jiffy._ "

"What! Jane and Kip?" Kitty's eyes had turned as round as saucers. " Tell it to Sweeney!"

Jane had never felt more mortified in her entire life, but at the same time her mind was racing. There was no way she could let them see how embarrassed she was. If she showed any weakness now… Desperately, she fought to keep her face expressionless.

"Oh, please - you call that fascinating?" Rose pretended to yawn. "The two most boring people in our year. Everybody must have seen _that_ coming from a mile away!"

"No but listen!" Marie clearly wasn't willing to give up the spotlight yet. " _I figured there must be something I can do to help things along, so last night I talked to Ned, and he agrees-"_

"You did _what_?" Throwing all caution to the wind, Jane fairly screamed the words at Ruth. "Tell me that's not true, Ruth."

"Well, _someone_ had to do something." Ruth was avoiding her gaze as best she could. "I just wanted what's best for you, Janey."

"I _trusted_ you!" The Slytherin girls were all but forgotten as Jane imagined what would happen if Ned told Kip, and Kip- No, it didn't bear thinking about. "How could you-"

"Yes, how could you, dear Ruthie?" Rose mimicked her tone, her voice dripping with contempt. " And here I thought the two of you were the best of friends. Clearly-"

But before she could say more, a tall figure clad in dark robes stepped out of the shadows. "What exactly is going on here?" Miss Fisher's words carried a cutting edge that silenced Rose as effectively as any spell.

A quick flick of her wand freed Jane from her bonds, and a single glance sufficed to make Rose and Kitty let go of Ruth. But when Miss Fisher reached for the diary to see what the fuss was all about, Jane noticed Rose's lips move and her hands close around her wand.

"Careful, Miss!" she cried out, and right at this moment, Ruth's diary went up in flames.

The words that fell from Miss Fisher's lips were not fit to be repeated in polite company, and certainly not suited to the position of a Hogwarts professor. Her wand moved again, so fast that Jane couldn't see more than a blur, and a jet of water shot from its tip, leaving both the diary and Marie, who was holding it, soaked all the way through.

"Miss Weston." Phryne Fisher's voice had turned so inhumanly calm that it genuinely frightened even Jane. "You will report to my office immediately and we will have a serious conversation about your actions. Miss Pace, Miss Wild…" She turned to face Kitty and Marie. "You will return to your dorm and stay there until I have time to deal with you."

"Yes, Professor." Rose had turned deathly pale, but even she didn't dare push her luck further. All three Slytherin girls disappeared without a word of protest.

"Ruth?" Thankfully, Miss Fisher sounded like her normal, friendly self again. "I'm sorry about the book. Was it your diary?"

Ruth nodded, and she was crying properly now, but she still didn't look at Jane.

"It may be possible to save it, if we dry it out slowly." Miss Fisher carefully took hold of a corner of the soggy pages. "Do you want me to try?"

"No, Miss. It's not important." Ruth sniffled once more. "Can I… can I go to my room, too?"

"Of course you can." Miss Fisher watched her go, then turned to Jane. "Well. Want to tell me what this was about?"

Quickly, Jane relayed the events, leaving out the contents of the diary, though part of her really wanted her godmother's help with sorting out her feelings. She was kind of sorry for Ruth, but at the same time so mad at her that it seemed impossible to work out what to do next.

"Sweet Morgana. This seems like an unusually cruel stunt, even for Rose and her posse." Miss Fisher shook her head. "Any idea why they would torment you so?"

"Because they can?" Jane snorted contemptuously. "Rose… She thinks she's the cat's meow. All superior, and untouchable, because her family is rich and pureblood, and because she's pretty and popular. I hate her."

"Ah." Miss Fisher was quiet for a moment, her expression turned inward as if she was listening to something Jane couldn't hear. "Yes, I guess that's how she must seem to you." Again, she sighed deeply. "Don't be too hard on them, Jane. You never know what's behind a person's behaviour. Rose may be shallow and cruel, but in my experience, there's always a reason for that."

"Maybe. I don't care." Jane felt her lips set in an obstinate snarl. "Anyway, thanks, Miss. For saving us."

"Just doing my job." Miss Fisher was already smiling again. "Well, I'm off to deal with the little reprobates now. You should probably go see Ruth. She was really upset."

"Yes. Probably." Jane nodded, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't. _Upset. Yeah, well. Serves her right._ For the first time ever, she didn't care the least bit about how her best friend was feeling.


	8. Chapter 8

"How very kind of you to invite us all, Professor Fisher." Dorothy Williams sat down on the edge of her chair, looking up at Phryne with a charming air of uncertainty. "Is there a special occasion?"

"None whatsoever." Phryne beamed at her and poured her a cup of hot, strong Assam tea. "I just thought it might be nice for us ladies to spend a little time together. And please, do call me Phryne."

Mac accepted her own cup with a brisk nod, leant back in her armchair and surveyed the spread on the table with a satisfied sigh. The house elves had provided everything one could possibly dream of for a delicious afternoon tea: fluffy scones and sumptuous crumpets; a big bowl of clotted cream; two kinds of homemade jam and marmalade; a rich, spongy Madeira cake; and a large tray of sandwiches, both cucumber and egg and cress.

"It looks delicious." Professor Turner added a single spoon of sugar to her tea and reached for a sandwich. "And that's a lovely tea set, by the way."

"Thank you so much. It used to belong to a distant relative of mine who led a rather scandalous life during the Regency era." Phryne smiled fondly. "Poor dear Aunt Kitty. Impeccable taste in china, but rather deplorable taste when it came to men." She turned to Professor Mason. "Can I offer you anything, my dear?"

"No. Just tea." Professor Mason's abrupt tone did nothing to soften the harshness of her words. "I only eat jam sandwiches."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to get you some from the kitchens?" Phryne reached for her wand to summon an elf.

But Professor Mason shook her head. "I'm not hungry." Nervously, she gathered her shawl around her shoulders. She didn't seem very comfortable, but her hair looked less disheveled than usual and she clearly had tried to dress up for the occasion, even if the result wasn't exactly fashionable.

Gracefully, Phryne sank into her own chair, picking a tiny cucumber sandwich from the plate. "How nice of you all to come. I must confess that I hadn't expected there to be so many ladies on the staff at Hogwarts. Back when I was a student, most of my professors were male."

Professor Turner snorted. "And I think some of them would vastly prefer a continuation of that state of affairs."

"Well, that's not up to them, thankfully. Have you been here long, Professor?" Phryne raised a questioning eyebrow at Professor Turner.

"Helen, please." The Transfigurations teacher shrugged. "Five years this past summer, I believe. I enjoy my job. Teaching has always been my passion."

"And you, Dot?" Phryne noticed with approval that the young teacher had relaxed a bit. "How do you like it here?"

"Oh, I like it very much." Dorothy was blushing, but the extra colour in her cheeks suited her well. "Of course, some people feel that Muggle Studies aren't as important as other subjects, but-"

"Poppycock." Mac took a large bite from her slice of cake, chewing happily as she rolled her eyes skyward.

"I used to enjoy Muggle Studies." Professor Mason put down her cup with an audible clunk. "They watch the stars, too, you know? Their theories about the constellations and what they signify are completely wrong, of course. But they do observe them."

"You love the stars, don't you, Beatrice?" Phryne kept her tone as non-threatening as she could. "May I call you Beatrice?"

Professor Mason nodded jerkily. "Yes. You may. It's beautiful at night, up on the Tower. The stars are so bright, like jewels. Cold and distant. But beautiful." Her expression had completely changed during her last words, becoming calm and serene, almost happy.

"Yes. Yes, they are." Phryne nodded thoughtfully.

Beatrice Mason intrigued her. Unobtrusively, she kept an eye on the young Astrology teacher while the conversation turned to other topics: the unseasonably warm weather, the question of how to handle students being caught with spell-checking quills, the newest fashion in outdoor robes, and finally the upcoming Halloween celebrations.

Phryne was racking her brain for an innocuous way to bring up the topic she really wanted to talk about – her case and the possible explanations for the students' recent bouts of forgetfulness. She really didn't want to be too obvious about the reason for this little gathering.

Fortunately, Dorothy Williams unwittingly came to her help. "Isn't it wonderful that Lila is back safe and sound? I was so worried about her."

"And not without reason." Helen Turner shook her head. "Merlin knows what could have happened to her out in the forest. I really can't imagine what the poor girl was thinking. Has anyone had a chance to ask her yet?"

Phryne nodded. "Mr Robinson, the auror, questioned her as soon as she was well enough. But she doesn't remember a thing."

"Hypnosis might help." Beatrice Mason was staring at the contents of her cup with single-minded focus. "If only we had a Wampus cat. They can read minds."

"They're native to North America. I doubt you'll find one in the neighbourhood." Mac's tone was dry, but not unfriendly. "Also, I hear they are rather terrifying."

"Probably not a good idea, then." Phryne reached for another sandwich.

"What about you, Phryne? Are the rumours true?" Professor Turner sounded skeptical. "About you being a Legilimens?"

"Ah, I wish they were." Phryne sighed theatrically. "It would make being a teacher so much easier sometimes. But no." She didn't miss the ripple of relief running through the room. Few people appreciated having their privacy invaded by a mind-reader, so she had long made a habit of denying whatever talent she possessed in that area. "Besides, it would take a _very_ accomplished Legilimens to overcome memory loss."

"True." Mac's eyes narrowed. "Quite apart from the fact that it would, of course, be completely illegal to use such a spell on a student. Or a fellow teacher."

"Of course," Phryne agreed virtuously. "I am sure everybody has their little secrets they wouldn't wish to share." Surreptitiously, she glanced at her colleagues' faces.

Dorothy Williams was blushing _again_ , and Phryne mentally shook her head at her. With a face like hers, there was no way Dot would ever be able to hide her thoughts and feelings. The fact that she was thinking about Hugh Collins right now was written across her features as clearly as if she had said the words aloud.

"Well, you know all of my secrets already." Mac winked at her. "And if you don't, a glass of your best firewhisky might help you get them out of me."

"Sometimes the stars will give away people's secrets." Beatrice Mason was smiling enigmatically. "If you know how to read their patterns."

"A very inexact science, if you ask me," Professor Turner muttered under her breath. "And maybe that's just as well." She put down her cup with a firm nod in Phryne's direction. "Well, I need to be off. Those homework papers won't grade themselves, I'm afraid. Thank you very much for the tea, Phryne. Ladies."

One by one, everyone took their leave with polite smiles and thanks, and the room emptied quickly.

Finally, only Mac was left behind. "I'll have that whisky now, if you don't mind." Leaning against the mantel, she accepted her glass with a graceful nod." You know, if it's gossip you're after, you could just have asked. Though, I'm afraid I don't have anything particularly juicy up my sleeve."

"But there must be something." Phryne wearily rubbed her neck. "Put a bunch of people together in a place like this, and there's bound to be some intrigue. Jealousies, love affairs, personal animosities, feuds, whatever. Any dirty little secret you can think of?"

Mac slowly swirled her glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around with a thoughtful frown. "Well, Hugh and Dot are clearly in love, though they don't know it yet. And from what Alice has told me, Cec Yates is getting ready to propose any day now. He's been courting her for months."

"That's all very sweet, but hardly blackmail material." Phryne poured herself a glass of her own. "Anything else?"

"Old Ford was _very_ dismissive of Professor Turner's academic credentials when she first got here. I'm guessing he's jealous because she's better qualified than he ever was. She, in turn, hates his guts but is too well-bred to say so." Mac coughed briefly. "And Coach Mclean has a reputation for favouring Gryffindor in the Quidditch Cup, which has made him quite unpopular with the Heads of the other Houses. Apart from that, I've got nothing, really."

"Such a pity." Phryne downed her glass in one gulp. "Ah, well. Maybe Jane's investigations will turn up something interesting."

* * *

"Oh, come on, Jane." Kip nudged her gently with his elbow. "Ruth is your best friend. Just talk to her."

Jane felt her mouth set in a tight line. Next to her, Ned shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but one angry glare from her sufficed to keep him silent. This morning, she had managed to catch him alone, and he had assured her that he hadn't mentioned her secret to Kip yet. Apparently, he hadn't thought it was all that important. To be on the safe side, she had threatened him with an impressive assortment of hexes in case he should change his mind.

Ruth was sitting all by herself in a corner of the entrance hall, pretending to be engrossed in her Arithmancy textbook. Jane hadn't talked to her all day. She was still far too mad about her breach of confidence.

"See how lonely she looks?" A tinge of impatience was beginning to creep into Kip's soothing tone. "Whatever it is that she has done, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Jane tossed back her braids defiantly. "Trust me, I have good reasons to be mad at her."

"Whatever. I'm not getting caught in the middle of this." Rolling his eyes skyward, Kip grabbed his satchel and got to his feet. "Come along, Ned. We'll just stay out of sight until the two of them have sorted it out."

"Don't count on it," Jane muttered under her breath as she watched the two boys walk away, but her heart wasn't really in it. Ruth _was_ looking unhappy, wasn't she, for all her attempts to look aloof and unconcerned? Maybe it really was silly to keep this up. And yet…

"Well, well, if it isn't our little teacher's pet." Marie's nasal voice right next to her ear almost made her jump. "Your dear Professor Fisher took twenty points from her own house again. She's always taking your side. Don't you think that's grossly unfair?"

Jane's gaze followed Marie's pointing finger to the four large hourglasses in the corner of the room. House Slytherin's lower bulb was still fairly well filled, thanks to their recent Quidditch victory, but during the past few days the number of emeralds had steadily declined. Right now, Hufflepuff was ahead by a solid margin, but Jane wasn't about to take responsibility for that state of affairs.

"Uh-uh." Jane shook her head decisively. "You only have yourself to thank for that, Marie. No one asked you to bully Ruth."

Marie's eyes narrowed. "It's not my fault if she can't take a joke."

"Yeah, right." Jane got to her feet with a sigh. "You know most people don't share your particular sense of humour, right? Face it, taking that diary was a nasty thing to do and you lot deserve everything you've got."

"You have some nerve to say that to my face, you common little-" At a sharp glance from Professor Turner, who was passing them at a few steps' distance, Marie bit her lip. "Well, then. See you in class." She turned to leave, not without a final angry glare at Jane.

Jane let out a deep breath of relief, bending down to gather her books. When she straightened up again, Ruth was standing right before her.

"Don't listen to her. She's just mad because Rose got detention, and Aunt Phryne made her and Kitty write essays on the proper behaviour for a young lady." Ruth's voice was a little shaky. "Thanks for standing up for me, Jane. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well." Jane felt her cheeks heat up. She wasn't quite ready to let things go yet, though. "That's what friends do, right?" _And more importantly, they don't give away other people's secrets._ The words were on the tip of her tongue, but it seemed petty to say them out loud.

"True." Ruth bit her lip, throwing her an imploring glance. "Look, Janey, I'm so very sorry. I know I shouldn't have told Ned, but I really meant no harm. I just- Can we be friends again. Please?"

Jane hesitated. She _did_ miss having her best friend by her side. And if Ruth really felt sorry… "Oh, all right." Gingerly, she embraced Ruth. "But you need to keep your mouth shut in the future. Promise."

"I do." Smiling all over, Ruth returned the hug. "Though I really don't know how the two of you are ever going to sort things out on your own."

* * *

"I hear you've been having trouble with your Seventh Years, my dear Phryne?" The Headmistress's expression vacillated between benevolence and disapproval. "I do hope you have things under control in your House."

"I'm doing just fine, Aunt P." Phryne dropped nonchalantly into a well-cushioned chair and glanced up at the portraits of her aunt's predecessors. Clearly, they didn't seem to consider the situation particularly noteworthy either, judging from the fact that most of them were half asleep in their frames. "There was really no need to summon me here for a lecture."

"I certainly wouldn't presume to lecture you," Aunt P shook her head, indignation slowly winning over now. "But you cannot blame me for taking an interest in how my school is run. Now, about Rose Weston… You have given her several hours of detention, or so I have heard?"

Phryne nodded. "I caught her bullying some other girls, together with Kitty and Marie. They've both been punished as well, but Rose is clearly the ringleader, and the other two just follow her example." She sighed. "I really just want a chance to talk to her and find out why she was so vicious. Has she always been like this, Aunt P? Do you know of anything that might have precipitated this kind of behaviour?"

"Let me just check her file." At a flick of the Headmistress's wand, the doors of an inlaid cherrywood cabinet at the back of the room flew open and a bundle of parchments smoothly sailed over to them, settling in her lap. "Now, let me see, if I remember correctly… Ah, yes, here it is. Rose Weston. An _excellent_ family, but recently, they seem to have fallen on hard times, financially and otherwise. They had to apply for a grant to cover the expense of her last year at Hogwarts." Slowly, she shook her head. "Such a sad state of affairs. No doubt this is at least in part due to her grandfather's rather unfortunate habit of gambling away his money."

"You know him personally?" Phryne would never cease to be amazed by the breadth of her aunt's connections in the wizarding world.

"I most certainly do. Franklin Weston." Aunt P smacked her lips in genteel disapproval. "The man used to bet on everything – Quidditch matches, Gobstones, Hippogriff racing, whatever you can possibly think off. If the rumors are true, his creditors came for him during the summer, and things turned ugly." Aunt P shook her head. "There was an article in the _Prophet_ , and I think I kept the cutting… Ah, here it is. They threatened his family to make him pay, it says. Really, I don't know what the wizarding world has come to lately."

"Let me see." Phryne gently smoothed down the paper on the desk. It was right there, on the front page, in big, screaming letters. WESTON AT THE MERCY OF THE GOBLIN MAFIA. Phryne just barely refrained from rolling her eyes at the headline. The papers tended to use 'the goblins' as a convenient shorthand for all that was evil, but in her own experience, humans were just as likely to be involved in organized crime. Quickly, she scanned the article. There was no picture, and Rose wasn't mentioned by name in the article, but still, this whole affair had to have been humiliating as well as terrifying for her. "Poor Rose."

A sharp knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

"What is it, Mr Johnson?" Despite Aunt P's benevolent smile, there was no mistaking the hint of irritation in her voice.

"You'd better come with me, Headmistress. You, too, Professor Fisher." Bert Johnson's face was pale, and his voice sounded shaky. "There's been an accident. In the Middle Courtyard."

Phryne exchanged a quick glance with her aunt, and they both rushed toward the door. Only minutes later, they were standing in the courtyard, staring down at a lifeless body on the ground. From what Phryne could see, it appeared to be a male student, almost fully grown, and dressed in Slytherin robes.

"Oh sweet Morgana!" The Headmistress clutched her ample bosom with one hand, making Phryne fear for her health. "Who is it? Is he-"

"It's Kevin Bradley." Hugh Collins was there, too, looking more than a little queasy. "And I'm sorry to say there can be little doubt he's dead."

Phryne had to agree. Kevin's stocky body was limp, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. A small puddle of blood had formed around his shaved head.

"We need to call Alice. Maybe she can do something." The Headmistress's hands were shaking badly, but somehow, she kept up her composure. "What a terrible, terrible accident."

Phryne took a deep breath. "I don't think it was an accident, Aunt P." She exchanged a meaningful look with Hugh Collins who shook his head, mouthing a silent "definitely not" at her.

"What do you mean, Phryne, _not an accident_!" Phryne had never seen her aunt quite as agitated. "He must have fallen from one of the towers."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible, given the exact place where he was found, Headmistress. If you look at the relative position of the towers and the body…" Hugh kept his tone as respectful as he could, but even so, Aunt P threw him a thunderous look that made him blanch.

"I agree." Phryne crouched down next to the body to sneak a look beneath it. Hugh Collins stayed well back, she couldn't help but notice. "And there's no sign of a broom, not even a bit of splintered wood."

"But I don't understand." Aunt P's face was a picture of confusion. "Are you suggesting that someone, or _something_ dropped him here? A dragon, maybe?"

Phryne shrugged. "A dragon, a hippogriff, maybe a winged horse. Though it seems odd that nobody would have noticed it flying by."

"Could have been a Thestral." Hugh had turned even paler now. "That would explain why most people wouldn't see it. Maybe we should have a chat with Cec."

"We most definitely should." Phryne got to her feet again with a little, energetic bounce. "And we need to get in touch with the Auror Office. Auror Robinson will want to be informed of this as soon as possible."


	9. Chapter 9

Jack Robinson would never presume to refer to a murder case as predictable or trivial. Yet, as he glanced up at the familiar silhouette of Hogwarts Castle in the moonlight, he couldn't quite chase the thought that this development wasn't entirely unexpected. And while murder was also never good news, some tiny part of him actually looked forward to working with Phryne Fisher again.

She had impressed him favourably during the manhunt for Lila Waddington, with her head for logic and her eye for detail. If only one of his subordinates at the Auror Office showed similar promise - but ever since Hugh Collins had left, he'd been stuck with a series of increasingly unsatisfying replacements. Which was precisely why he had insisted on working this case alone. The Head Auror hadn't been happy, but Jack's record was impressive enough to buy him a few privileges.

Jack had chosen to travel by portkey this time, which made it easier to bring enough luggage for an extended stay. The portkey, a large and rather ugly Chinese vase provided by the Headmistress, had taken him right outside the castle gates. There had been a spell of unseasonably warm weather lately, and he was grateful for it, as he waited for the groundskeeper to come and let him in.

"Auror Robinson?" And there he was, Cecil Yates, who still held the position in addition to his teaching duties. He was holding up a lantern so he could make out Jack's features in the dim light. "There you are. The Headmistress was getting impatient."

"My apologies for the late hour." Jack shouldered his bag and followed Yates down the winding driveway leading up to the castle. "I hope the body has remained undisturbed?"

"Just as you asked." Yates sighed. "The Headmistress wasn't happy with it, I can tell you. We had a bit of trouble keeping the students away from the courtyard, you see? But Professor Fisher insisted, so the poor lad is still there. Bert Johnson, our caretaker, has been guarding him."

Jack nodded, pleased that his instructions had been followed. "It won't be much longer now. But you'd better take me to the Headmistress's office first."

Yates nodded quietly. When they reached the castle, he took Jack to the foot of the winding staircase leading to Professor Stanley's office. "Twilight Waltz," he muttered, and as the stairs began moving upwards, he took a step back, motioning for Jack to get on them. "The Headmistress is waiting for you, together with the Heads of all four Houses. I'll take your luggage to your quarters. They've assigned you a guest room up near the North Tower. One of them can show you the way later."

Jack opened his mouth to contradict him, but then thought better of it. If he really was going to spend a longer stretch of time up here, he didn't particularly fancy a return to the dubious comforts of the Hog's Head. Plus, living here, among all the suspects and witnesses, might actually work out to his advantage.

When the door to the office opened, a familiar assortment of faces greeted him: the Headmistress, of course, looking pale and drawn; Hugh Collins, deep in conversation with Professor Butler; Professor Fisher, impeccably styled and groomed as always; and her friend, that smart, unconventional woman who was Head of Ravenclaw... Professor MacMillan, that was her name.

He greeted everyone in turn, then addressed himself to Prudence Stanley. "I am very sorry to hear about this unfortunate turn of events, Headmistress."

"It is very kind of you to come and assist us." The Headmistress swallowed hard. "I still have hopes that it all turns out to have been a mere unfortunate accident."

"I will take that possibility into consideration, of course." Jack nodded gravely. "Though from what Professor Collins has told me-"

"Let me take you to the body, sir. Jack." Hugh Collins threw him a nervous glance, clearly intent on avoiding a further discussion of the topic. "Professor Fisher? Are you coming as well?"

"Of course, Hugh." Phryne Fisher's smile seemed a little more subdued than the last time. "I assume that we can take Kevin's body to the hospital wing once you've examined the crime scene, Auror Robinson?"

"Yes." Jack could certainly understand their desire to get the body out of sight. "We will, of course, have to transfer him to London or Edinburgh for a detailed autopsy, but maybe your matron could have a closer look at his injuries first?"

"I'll tell Alice to get ready." Professor MacMillan got to her feet. "And if I may, I'd like to see the body as well, Auror Robinson. I've had some healer training and I'm an expert in magical injuries and poisonings."

"I'd appreciate it. Professor Collins?" Jack motioned for Hugh to precede him down the stairs.

His examination of the crime scene confirmed what Hugh had told him. An accident seemed more than unlikely, given the position of the body smack in the middle of the courtyard, and the absence of any means of aerial transport. Kevin Bradley, the victim, hadn't been a particularly winsome young man while he was alive, from what Jack had gathered. Even in death, his features appeared sullen and stubborn, his neck bullishly thick and his brow low and menacing. Still, he didn't deserve an end like this. No one did.

They spent the next hour in the hospital wing, examining the body for clues. Alice, the young matron, was crying quietly most of the time, but she was thorough and meticulous, pointing out and cataloguing the various bruises and lacerations on the boy's broken body.

When they finally took a step back, Jack sighed. "Well, all of this is consistent with a fall from a great height, about sixty, seventy feet, I'd say. But how on Earth did he get up there in the first place? And why did he fall?"

Professor MacMillan wearily rubbed her forehead. "There's no sign that he'd been drugged or otherwise incapacitated."

"And he was a proficient flyer." Phryne Fisher, who had watched the whole scene in silence, without the slightest indication that she was fazed by blood or dead bodies, stepped forward. "Whatever else you can say about Kevin, he knew how to handle his broom."

"But there was no broom." Hugh Collins was looking pale and nauseous, an expression Jack was only too familiar with. "We haven't found any trace of wood, and we've searched the whole courtyard and the roofs of the adjacent buildings. If he really just fell, why would anyone go to the trouble of hiding the broom? It doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't," Jack agreed. "At least not yet. Thank you very much, everybody. I think we've done all we can for today. We'll see what we can do tomorrow, when everyone has had a good night's rest."

One by one, they filed out of the room. Outside the door, Jack found himself face to face with Phryne Fisher once more. "Professor Fisher. Could I bother you for directions to my room?"

"Just Miss Fisher, please. I'm still not used to the whole 'Professor' thing." She made a face.

"Miss Fisher." He nodded. "And you can call me Jack, by the way. Everybody else does."

She smiled. "Very well, Jack. I can show you to your room. Or I could do even better and offer you a nightcap?"

Jack hesitated. Technically, he wasn't supposed to get too cozy with any of the staff here, but he had to admit that the prospect of a glass of good firewhisky sounded very inviting. Not to mention the chance to get Professor-, no _Miss_ Fisher's perspective on the whole thing. "Just one." Much to his surprise, he found himself smiling back at her. "Lead the way."

Miss Fisher seemed astonished that he had given in so quickly. She had probably expected a lengthy discussion on the propriety of joining her in her rooms. Well, it was a little risqué, come to think of it, but Jack firmly told himself that they were both grown-up people who could handle a little intimacy. At least, he was pretty sure he could.

"So..." Miss Fisher poured two generous glasses of firewhisky and handed him one of them, motioning for him to take a seat in one of the plushy armchairs near the fireplace. "What do you make of the situation so far?"

Jack took his time answering, sipping slowly on the whisky, while she settled in the armchair opposite. It was _really_ good stuff, mellow and peaty, confirming his theory that Miss Phryne Fisher had considerable financial means at her disposal. And yet, she had chosen to work as a teacher, here at Hogwarts - a respectable, but hardly glamorous career. _Interesting_.

"I agree that an accident can be ruled out. Though I don't really have a good theory as to how the whole thing went down either." He pictured the crime scene again in his mind. How would anyone have gone about killing Kevin - if that had indeed been the goal? Levitate him above ground and then just let him drop? That seemed both cruel and unlikely. "The autopsy might help us in determining whether there are any traces of animal hair, visible or otherwise. Hugh told me you've considered a Thestral?"

Miss Fisher shrugged. "There's a herd in the Forbidden Forest. And I guess it is possible that Kevin could see them and then decided to ride one. We don't know if he had ever witnessed death."

"No, we don't. Still, it seems far-fetched." Jack sighed. "Maybe we need to look at this from another point of view. Who had a motive for killing the boy?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly sweet-tempered." Miss Fisher shuddered. "More of a bully, really. But, I still feel his death is somehow connected to all the other mysterious events. You know, Lila's disappearance, the cases of memory loss..."

"Could be." Jack nodded. "Or they could be entirely unrelated. Did you manage to turn up any interesting staff room gossip, by the way?"

"Not a whole lot." Miss Fisher gazed thoughtfully into the flames. She was wholly focussed on the case, now, Jack realized. No flirting, no suggestive remarks... He was almost a little disappointed, but just then she turned to face him again. "Unless you count the secret romance between Alice and Cec Yates, or Hugh's infatuation with Dot Williams. Neither of them seems scandalous enough to qualify as a reason for murder, though. If this were a detective story, I could come up with something far less innocent in a heartbeat." A quick, saucy wink at Jack made him immediately revise his earlier observation. Clearly, it wouldn't do to let his guard down around Miss Fisher.

"I'm sure you could." Jack forced himself not to wink back, as his own mind supplied a number of rather salacious possible scenarios. "Anyway, I believe we can safely rule out Hugh Collins as the murderer. I've never known a man less prone to violence. In fact, that was a big part of why he ended his career at the Auror Office. Couldn't stand the sight of blood or dead bodies." Jack smiled fondly in remembrance.

"I thought he seemed rather squeamish!" Miss Fisher's lips were twitching a little. "Poor Hugh. But, I guess I can't blame him. Not everybody is cut out to deal with blood and gore on a daily basis."

"True," Jack agreed. "On the other hand, _you_ seemed rather unconcerned about handling a corpse, Miss Fisher."

"Let's just say I've seen my fair share of dead bodies." A shadow briefly crossed her face, but she didn't elaborate.

Jack found himself intrigued. Clearly, there was more to Phryne Fisher than just the elegant society lady or the resolute teacher. He was rather looking forward to finding out more about her. But the case had to come first, of course. "Anything else your sleuthing turned up?"

"Just the normal feuds between colleagues." Miss Fisher was already back to her usual, glib tone. "Professor Ford and Professor Turner don't get along very well. Still, much as Ford irritates me on a personal basis, I guess that's not actually a reason to think he's murdered anyone." She took another sip of her whisky, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "As for Professor Turner, she'd be my chief suspect if someone hit Ford with a killing curse, but otherwise I can't see her with a motive for any kind of crime."

"There must be something we're overlooking." Jack reached for his neck to loosen his tie, which suddenly seemed far too stifling. "Have you noticed any kind of suspicious behaviour among the teachers?"

"Well, there's Professor Mason, of course." Miss Fisher looked doubtful. "All kinds of weird behaviour there, and she knew where to find Lila. If her vision turned out to have been fake-"

"Beatrice Mason has had genuine visions before, documented and confirmed," Jack pointed out. "Besides, it was Arthur Stanley who eventually found the girl. By your logic, your cousin would be equally suspect."

Miss Fisher rolled her eyes. "I've known Arthur all my life, Jack – he couldn't hurt a fly."

"I'll take your word for it, for now." Jack shook his head in frustration. "None of this is helpful. And really, we have no way of knowing if Lila's disappearance and Kevin's death are related at all. It could all be a coincidence." He paused for a moment, before looking up and meeting her eyes. "Can we definitely rule out the students?"

Miss Fisher's eyebrows flew up at his suggestion. "No, probably not. Though I don't really want to imagine someone that young could be capable of committing such a horrible crime."

"Still, it wouldn't be unheard of." Jack held her gaze. "Who among the students would have a reason to kill Kevin? What do you think?"

Miss Fisher made a small moue of distaste, but she didn't contradict him. "Well, there's Tom Derrimut. He and Kevin got into a fight a few days ago. But he's a good kid, Jack, not a killer! Besides, he had no reason whatsoever to harm Lila."

"And yet again, I ought to remind you." Jack kept his tone firm. "There could have been more than one person involved. Kidnapping and murder are two very different crimes. Any other students who come to mind? Someone among his fellow Slytherins, maybe? You know them well, I presume."

Miss Fisher shrugged "Derek Phillips would certainly be capable of planning and executing a crime, if it was to his own advantage. But he really had no motive at all. Kevin was his... well, I guess calling it 'friend' would be too generous. More of a sidekick, really. Far too useful to do away with, in any case."

"One of the girls, perhaps?" Jack emptied his glass with a wistful sigh. "Thwarted love can be a powerful motive."

"It's a theoretical possibility, I guess. Though it seems hard to imagine anyone taking a romantic interest in Kevin." Miss Fisher slowly shook her head. "I don't know, Jack. I mean, we're talking about cold-blooded murder here. Sure, some of the girls aren't angels. I can see them getting into fights, committing petty theft, maybe. Marie Wild certainly can't keep her sticky little fingers to herself. But murder? That's a whole different ballgame."

"Still, we should interview them individually." Setting down his glass, Jack got to his feet. "I would appreciate your assistance with that, Miss Fisher. Teenage girls aren't really my area of expertise."

"I'd be happy to help, Jack." Miss Fisher rose as well, in a fluid, graceful way that sent his mind to interesting places. "Now, do you think you can find your room on your own? Or would you like me to come along and show you?" Her voice had dropped to a deep, sensual purr.

"I believe I can manage. North Tower, right?" Once again, Jack's collar felt far too tight. "Good night, Miss Fisher."

"Good night, Jack." Her smile was altogether too perceptive. "Sleep well."

* * *

"Man, and I was so sure the Slytherins were behind all our problems." Ned kicked at a crumpled piece of parchment on the floor, as if it was responsible for his anger. "I don't trust Phillips. When Lila disappeared, I thought..." He huffed in frustration.

"Yeah, think again." Jane glared at him and bent down to pick the parchment up. Littering the corridors wasn't acceptable behaviour for a prefect, in her book. "No way would Derek hurt Kevin. He was one of his most trusted followers."

"But who could it have been?" Kip took the parchment from her hands with a smile and expertly tossed it into one of the rubbish bins. "I mean, there's any number of people who didn't exactly _like_ Kevin. But who would want to kill him?"

"Yup." Ruth nodded peaceably. "That does seem a little extreme."

Jane sighed deeply. "I still think Professor Mason is acting suspiciously. She had that so-called vision, remember? And Joan told me, when she heard of Kevin's death all she said was, 'Of course. His horoscope said quite clearly that he'd come to a sudden, violent end.'" She shivered. "What if she helped the stars along a bit?"

"I don't know, Jane." Kip shifted uncomfortably. "I just don't see Professor Mason getting all murderous. She's nice. Weird but nice."

Ned nodded. "Besides, she's not the only one with a motive. I heard someone say that Coach Mclean must be behind it all, because he was mad about the Gryffindors losing that match. He couldn't stand Kevin."

"Huh?" Jane briefly considered the thought, but then dismissed it with a shrug. "Nah. No one commits murder over Quidditch scores."

Ruth hummed her agreement, but Kip shook his head. "I don't know, Jane. The coach does take Quidditch rather seriously." It was said half-jokingly, but he and Ned didn't seem to think the theory was quite as far-fetched as the girls did.

"Well, anyway." Jane exchanged a quick glance with Ruth, mouthing a silent 'Boys!' at her friend. "If you're going to suspect everyone who couldn't stand Kevin..."

"Half the school could have done it," Ruth finished, nodding and grimacing behind Ned's back. "All four of us included."

"Hey, you know what?" Kip clearly hadn't missed their little exchange, but he was smiling and looking not at all put out. "I'm really glad the two of you have sorted out your little tiff. Ready to tell us what it was all about now, by the way?"

"Oh, just girl stuff, you know." Jane aimed a vicious glare at Ned who was visibly itching to say something. "Nothing serious."

Next to her, Ruth exhaled audibly, but she kept silent. Jane nodded contentedly. Soon, things would be back to normal, just the four of them being good friends. Which was probably better anyway.

* * *

"So I hear that auror will be joining us for dinner tonight?" Professor Ford nodded at Phryne across the staff table.

"I believe so, Professor Ford." She put on her most charming smile in an effort to hide her real feelings. "Do you have any objections?"

"Oh no, no. Why would I?" Ford coughed meaningfully. "He's quite welcome, of course, but to be quite frank, I rather question why his presence here is necessary at all. Clearly that boy Kevin had a simple flying accident. Regrettable, certainly, but not uncommon. He was probably practicing some risky manoeuvre. You know, boys will be boys." He chuckled at his own wit.

"And how do you explain the absence of a broom, Professor Ford?" Hugh shoved the steaming bowl of potatoes right under Ford's nose with uncharacteristic brusqueness.

"I really have no idea, my dear Collins." Heaping several potatoes onto his plate, Ford shrugged airily. "But I'm sure there's a perfectly harmless explanation."

"Quite right, old chum." Professor Radix predictably came to his colleague's aid. "You see, mathematically speaking, it is possible to project a divergent downward trajectory for the broom, making it end up at a considerable distance from the, eh, body. If we assume, theoretically, that there was an unusually strong westerly wind yesterday-"

"But there wasn't," Hugh was clearly at the end of his patience. "No matter what you theorize, in _practice_ , it was clear and sunny, without a trace of wind. And anyway, the broom would still have to be _somewhere_ , right?"

"Things are a little more complex than that." Radix smiled benevolently at Hugh. "We'd have to take magical air currents into account, as well as statistical deviancies. Of course, I imagine those intricacies would be difficult to grasp for a more… practical man like you."

"It seems to me that this situation calls for a practical approach." Dot surprised everyone by speaking out. "Professor Collins has had auror training. I believe he is better equipped to handle this than any academic." She glared at Professor Radix, her cheeks charmingly flushed.

Ford chuckled, spearing a piece of roast with his fork. "It appears you have found a valiant young defender, Collins. Congratulations."

Dot's blush deepened further, as she shrank back into her place. Hugh Collins cleared his throat and seemed about to reply. Phryne leaned a little forward into her seat, eager to follow the unfolding drama, but right then, Jack Robinson appeared in the doorway.

"Professor Collins? May I speak to you in private for a moment?" Politely declining their invitation to join them, he pulled Hugh aside and the two of them went out through the little back door.

Phryne took advantage of the distraction to discreetly elbow Dot in the ribs. "Well done, Dot! I'm sure Hugh appreciated your support."

"Ah, I really don't know, Miss Fisher." Dot smiled apologetically. "He probably doesn't need me defending him."

"Poppycock!" Phryne shook her head. "You know, in my experience, beside every good man is a good woman, and she must always be ready to step in front." Pushing her plate back, she got up and headed for the back door. "And now, let's see what Auror Robinson has to say."


	10. Chapter 10

"Ah, Miss Fisher. How kind of you to join us." Try as he might, Jack couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of his tone, and of course Miss Fisher was quick to spot it.

"There's no need to be like this, Jack. You know you need my help." She beamed at Collins. "Don't listen to Ford and Radix, Hugh. They don't have a clue about our case."

" _Our_ case." Jack cleared his throat. "Well, Miss Fisher. I was just about to ask Hugh for his help with interviewing the Gryffindor students, but seeing as how you're here, we may as well start with the Slytherins, and let him get back to enjoying his dinner."

"What a splendid plan." Miss Fisher seemed completely on board with his suggestion. Jack wasn't sure whether that was a relief, or a reason to be concerned. "You heard him, Hugh. Run along. I'm sure Dot will be happy to see you."

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Hugh Collins muttered something indistinct and disappeared.

Miss Fisher watched him go with a benevolent smile that was a tad unnerving, then turned to face Jack again. "We can use my office. I'll call the girls in one by one."

The first girl to show up introduced herself as Marie Wild. She was a rather plain girl with dark brown hair, and she appeared not too bright. Sitting down in front of Miss Fisher's elegant mahogany desk, she crossed her legs demurely and glanced up at Jack from under thick lashes. "Sir?"

"Marie." He hesitated, not quite sure where to begin. "You're in Slytherin House, right?"

"Yes, sir." Her voice sounded nasal. _Adenoids probably_.

"And you knew Kevin well, I presume?" Jack kept a close eye on her reactions, but Marie seemed calm enough. "Do you have any idea who might have wanted to harm him?"

Marie looked up and met his gaze. "Yes. Freckles did it."

"I beg your pardon?" Jack had a hard time hiding his surprise.

"Freckles did it," Marie repeated. Her tone was completely matter-of-fact. "He killed Kevin."

"But Marie..." Miss Fisher clearly could not keep quiet any longer. "Why would you think that? Why would Freckles kill his best friend?"

"Because he was consumed with jealousy, of course." Marie's eyes had become wide as saucers. Clearly, she was enjoying herself immensely. "It's only two weeks until the Midwinter Dance, you know. Madam Puddifoot organizes it for us in the Great Hall, and it's always so romantic! Anyway, Freckles wanted to go to the dance with me. He told me last month. But I chose Kevin and not him, and that broke his heart." Marie sighed happily. "I could tell from the look in his eyes."

"I see." Jack spared a quick thought for the inexplicable vagaries of the teenage mind. How anyone in their right mind would pick Kevin over another boy pretty much eluded him. "And what did Freckles do next?"

Marie shrugged. "He asked Kitty, and she said yes. But he _really_ wanted to go with me. And the despair over my rejection drove him to this terrible deed," she finished dramatically, gazing expectantly up at Jack.

"Ahem." Behind him, Miss Fisher coughed softly. "What kind of books have you been reading lately, Marie?"

"The _Enchanted Encounters_ series by Fifi LaFolle." Marie smiled fondly. "My favourite is _Bewitched_ _and Bewildered_. You know, when Randolph the Wandering Wizard gets ensnared by that evil witch from Romania, and-"

"I think Professor Fisher and I can fill in the rest, thank you very much, Marie." Jack had a hard time hiding his impatience. Clearly, there was little hope of getting a sensible answer from Marie.

Marie's best friend Kitty Pace was next, but she didn't have anything useful to add to the discussion either - unless you counted her suggestion that Kevin must have been murdered by a gang of marauding goblins from Northern Ireland that she had read about in the papers.

While they waited for Rose Weston to show up, Jack exchanged a despairing glance with Miss Fisher. "Are they always like this?"

Miss Fisher shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes they will surprise you by showing an ounce of sense. But I wouldn't count on it, if I were you."

Rose appeared in the doorway and settled in the chair with a sullen expression. "Sir. Professor Fisher."

"Rose." Miss Fisher took the lead this time. "You have heard about Kevin, haven't you? Is there anything you can tell us that would be helpful?"

Rose shook her head, her lips set in a thin line, her gaze firmly fixed on her own hands. "They said it was an accident."

"We don't think so, Rose." Jack took care to keep his tone unthreatening. "Who could have wanted to hurt Kevin? Do you have any idea?"

Rose still didn't look at them, obsessively picking at a small piece of dry skin on her thumb instead. "Must have been one of the Gryffindors." She sounded bored. "Tom maybe. He hit Kevin before, remember?"

"They fought. That was different." Miss Fisher shook her head. "Did Kevin say anything to you? Did he mention anything that worried him?"

"No." Rose finally looked up. "Can I go now?"

"Yes." Jack sighed and motioned at the door. "You're free to go, Miss Weston."

"Don't forget your detention, Rose." Miss Fisher's tone was firm, but not unfriendly. "I expect to see you here tomorrow night."

The girl nodded and shuffled out without another glance in their direction.

Jack leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension that had built up there. "Well. That could have gone better. You seem to have your work cut out for you here."

Muttering a most unladylike word, Miss Fisher sat down on the desk next to him, crossing her legs. "They're not that bad, most of the time. I suppose they're scared. Worried what other secrets might come out, now that we're investigating a murder. And of course, they're teenage girls. Who knows what else is on their minds?"

Jack agreed, even as his gaze was drawn to the pair of long, shapely legs displayed to best advantage right in front of him. "So... what's next?"

"Well, we haven't finished interviewing the students, but it is getting late. You should definitely talk to Freckles and Derek before we finish, and then maybe tackle the rest of the students tomorrow. Including Tom Derrimut, even if I don't think he has anything to do with the murder." Miss Fisher thoughtfully tapped the surface of the desk with her long, perfectly manicured fingernails. "We tend to assume that we know everything that's going on among the students, but I wager there's a whole lot of drama we never hear about."

"True." Jack smiled fondly in remembrance of his own days as a student. "Though it doesn't usually lead to murder. But yes, by all means..." He reached for the list of names Hugh Collins had given him. "Let's get on with it."

* * *

At some point during the following afternoon, Phryne excused herself, allowing Hugh to take her place at the auror's side. All the Slytherin Seventh-Year students had been interviewed, albeit with little success. She rather admired Jack Robinson's thoroughness and patience, but she was getting a tad bored, and besides, a substantial stack of essays on her desk was waiting to get marked.

With a resigned sigh, she sat down to work. Most of the students had done a decent job at summing up the theory behind nonverbal spells, and only a few of them would have to redo the essay entirely. Both Jane and Ruth had handed in excellent work, and Phryne smiled to herself as she scribbled a large "O" for "Outstanding" on Jane's sheet of parchment. Kip had done a decent job as well, though his handwriting was a disgrace. She was just about to reach for the last roll of parchment, when the shrieking sound of an alarm brought her to her feet.

When she stuck her head out of the door, the first thing she noticed was Tom Derrimut racing along the corridor. "Fire! At the Quidditch shed! We must save the brooms!" The boy was panting hard. "Quick, Professor. Can you help?"

"Of course." Grabbing her wand, Phryne threw on a coat and headed for the stairs.

But when she arrived at the Quidditch shed, she found that things were already well under control. Cec Yates and Bert Johnson were there, aiming fountains of water from their wands at the burning shed, aided by Hugh Collins and Auror Robinson, who must have rushed here the moment they heard the alarm. Thick clouds of smoke were rising from the shed, mingling with tiny sparks of magic that indicated at least some of the brooms were already on fire.

A large group of students was gathered at the side, held back by Professor Turner and Dorothy Williams, who were doing their best to keep them out of harm's way. Tom Derrimut was right by Dot's side, repeating over and over that he had to get his broom from the shed. "You don't understand, Professor. It's a brand-new Comet 140, with the new braking charm. I can't lose it!"

With a sigh, Phryne placed a gentle hand on the boy's arm. "Calm down, Tom. Your safety is more important. A broomstick can be replaced."

"Not this one, Professor!" Tom was almost in tears. "I've been saving all my money for it for years, and I only got it last month."

"And I will make sure you get a new one, if it's really lost." Phryne shook her head. "How did this happen?"

"No one knows." Dot's eyes were firmly fixed on Hugh Collins who had thrown off his robes and rolled up his shirtsleeves, like all the men. It was a good look on him, Phryne had to admit. "Maybe a fire crab that got loose? Several of the students have been keeping them as pets, I believe, despite the Headmistress's best efforts at banning them."

"Fire crabs?" Phryne raised an eyebrow. "That's an odd choice for a pet."

"Well, their shells are pretty." Dot shrugged apologetically. "Though I really wouldn't enjoy cleaning out their cages on a regular basis."

"But why would a crab head for the broom shed?" Phryne shook her head. "Down to the lakeshore, definitely. But there's nothing here to attract them. Either way, the fire seems to be almost extinguished, and-"

Just then, there was a loud bang behind her, and when she turned, the back of the shed exploded in a huge ball of fire. _Probably the polishing wax._

"The brooms!" Tom wailed, but Phryne ignored him.

A jet of water from Cec Yates's wand had overshot his aim, drenching both Jack Robinson and Hugh Collins completely, making them gasp for air. Dot cried out in fear, but Phryne wasn't worried. Instead, she took advantage of the unexpected opportunity to take a closer look at the auror who was cursing under his breath, shaking off fine droplets of water. His white shirt was clinging to his torso, leaving little to the imagination, and Phryne unconsciously licked her lips.

Whatever they did in auror training to stay in form, it was clearly working. Jack Robinson had a nicely muscled body, with strong arms and wide shoulders, tapering down to a slim waist. His hair was all dishevelled and his face covered in soot and ashes, making him look considerably less civilized than usual. _Almost like a dragon-tamer._ The thought made her mind go to interesting places.

Next to her, Dot sighed dreamily, and Phryne threw her an amused glance from the corner of her eye. Hugh Collins was in much the same state as Jack, and from the way Dot's eyes were lingering on him, she wasn't immune to male charms either. When she caught Phryne looking, she blushed furiously.

Phryne hid a smile. "Well, that was _exciting_." She didn't bother keeping the innuendo out of her voice – the only student close enough to hear her was Tom, and he was far too focussed on his broomstick's tragic fate to pay attention. Phryne raised her wand. "We should probably take care of our handsome heroes, don't you think, Dot? Accio towels!"

As the last flames died down in a cloud of smoke, Phryne deftly caught the stack of large, fluffy towels she'd summoned from her bathroom and tossed one to Dot. "Come on." Without hesitation, she headed toward the men.

Jack Robinson accepted the towel with a grateful nod, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle he'd provided. "Thank you, Miss Fisher. That was bracing!"

He was shivering a little from the cold, the skin on his bare forearms rising in gooseflesh, and Phryne solicitously reached for the towel to wrap it more tightly around his shoulders. "Careful, Jack. You don't want to catch a cold." She couldn't quite resist brushing her fingers along his upper arms in passing, and she was rewarded with a brief gasp and a shiver. Though, maybe he was really just freezing? It was hard to tell.

"So…" Jack glanced at the ruin of the shed. "What do you think, Miss Fisher? Why the sudden conflagration?"

"It certainly seems suspicious." Dutifully, Phryne relayed the fire crab theory.

But Jack dismissed it with a contemptuous gesture. "No. This fire was set on purpose. We found at least two separate sources, one at the back and one near the front door."

Next to him, Hugh nodded. "Seems like someone had meddled with the broomsticks after all and was trying to do away with the evidence. I should have checked them straight away." He looked genuinely crestfallen. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Not your fault, Collins." Jack slapped his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I should have thought of it myself. It's a pity, though. Now our murderer has succeeded in hiding his tracks."

"Maybe." Phryne wasn't quite convinced. _There may be a different explanation_. An idea was beginning to form in her mind, but she wasn't quite ready to speak out yet. She had to check for herself first.

"Well, in any case," Jack glanced up at the darkening sky. "We ought to get back to the castle."

"Yes, we should." With a sigh, Phryne turned to the assembled students. "Slytherins with me," she called out. "Come on. It's almost dinner time."

The students headed back to the castle, chattering excitedly. Phryne brought up the rear, to make sure no one was dawdling, and it was then that she noticed Freckles, walking all by himself, looking pale and dejected. Immediately, she scolded herself for her negligence. The boy had lost his best friend, after all, and even if she didn't like him, someone ought to be there for him.

"Freckles!" she called out, gesturing for him to stop. "Wait a moment. How are you doing?"

The boy glanced back at her with a sullen, unfriendly expression. "I'm fine."

Phryne sighed. "No, you're not. And why would you be? Listen, if there is anything I can do-"

"I said I'm fine!" Freckles' voice was shaky. "Look, they say you've worked with the aurors before. If you really want to help, then find the guy who killed Kevin. And do it quickly, before he hurts anyone else."

Phryne stopped in her tracks, too surprised to reply straight away. But as soon as she found her voice again, she quickly caught up with Freckles again. "I will." Ignoring his hostile glare, she held his gaze. "I promise."

* * *

"All right, everyone." Professor Turner finished writing on the blackboard with an energetic flourish. "Don't forget, I want your essays on re-materialisation by the end of next week. And before you ask, I'm perfectly aware how disturbing and stressful the situation is at present. But that is no reason to neglect your school work."

Next to Jane, Ruth rolled her eyes. "Of course not," she muttered. "What's a little death compared to our N.E.W.T. exams?"

"Shhh." Jane threw a worried look at the teacher. Smart-assed remarks usually didn't go over well with Professor Turner.

Fortunately, their teacher didn't even seem to have heard Ruth. She was too busy glaring at Professor Ford, who, as usual, had shown up early and was clearing his throat impatiently while he waited for her to gather her things and leave. It was common knowledge among the students that those two hated each other's guts, and they especially detested having to share a classroom.

But the Ancient Runes classroom was still off limits, after an unfortunate incident at the end of the last school year. A prank involving frogspawn soap and an _Aguamenti_ spell set on automatic repeat had been a little more effective than intended. For some reason, the frogs had magically mutated and were now remarkably resilient against any form of pest control. Bert Johnson still had to make regular trips into the room to keep the population in check.

With a sigh, Jane stowed away her Transfiguration textbook in her desk and dug out the scrolls they were currently translating in Ancient Runes. She felt less than enthusiastic about the upcoming lesson. More monks, more lurid descriptions of beautiful, evil sorceresses and their wicked ways. _Couldn't they throw in a few cute young wizards now and then? That would make for a nice change. Or maybe a dragon._

Behind her, Bernadette was giggling at something her friend Joan had said. Jane was pretty sure she'd heard the name of the auror, Jack Robinson. She hadn't meant to listen, but the two girls didn't seem overly concerned with keeping their voices down. Jane was about to turn around and remind them to be a bit more discreet, when something Bernadette said caught her attention.

"I bet Auror Robinson would love to know what I overheard last week." Bernadette sounded smug. "It might explain why Kevin had to die, and why Lila went missing. But of course, my lips are sealed." She giggled again. "You know me, Joan. I'd rather die than betray such an important secret."

Jane exchanged a meaningful look with Ruth. Sometimes she wondered how Bernadette had ever managed to be sorted into Ravenclaw, considering how little sense she seemed to have.

"Oooooh!" Joan was practically hanging on her best friend's lips. "Do tell. Has it something to do with-"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Professor Ford shook his head in irritation. "What is it with girls and their love of gossip? Please spare us your idle chatter, ladies. We have wasted enough time already." Fumbling an antique watch from his pocket, he gazed pointedly at it. Professor Turner ignored him completely, of course.

For once, Jane had to agree with the old geezer, at least as far as the gossiping was concerned. If Bernadette really had important information, the best course would be to tell the auror. And if she hadn't – well, then she should really keep her mouth shut. If anyone should happen to overhear her-

"What do you say?" Jane whispered at Ruth. "Shall we have a word with Bernadette in private?"

Ruth nodded quickly, keeping her eyes on the teacher, an expression of polite interest firmly fixed on her face.

Just then, the door fell shut behind Professor Turner, and Professor Ford breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Now that we can _finally_ get started..." He unrolled his parchment, smacking his lips in anticipation. "Let us get back to our translation. Now, what does the Venerable Aethelwine have to say on witchcraft? Can somebody summarize the last chapter for me, please?"


	11. Chapter 11

"Professor Fisher? Phryne, I mean?" Dot Williams stuck her head through the open door to Phryne's office. "Is this a good time?"

"Of course, Dot. Come in." Phryne smiled encouragingly at her. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to bring back the book you lent me. It was very... interesting." Dot quickly placed Phryne's well-worn copy of _A different kind of magic - the guide to becoming a true enchantress_ on Phryne's desk. "Thank you very much."

"My pleasure, Dot." Phryne glanced at the book, then slid it into her desk drawer. _Better not leave this lying around in the open_. She was expecting Rose Weston for her detention in half an hour. "So... has Hugh asked you out on a date yet?"

Dot had held up well so far, but now the familiar blush appeared on her face. "He... yes, as a matter of fact he did. Well, sort of. He asked me whether I would help him chaperone the Midwinter Dance."

Phryne just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "Not quite a date, but it will have to do, I guess." Thoughtfully, she chewed her lower lip. "Of course, the two of you could have a drink afterwards, once all the students have gone to bed, or a late supper perhaps. You could ask the house elves to set up a little table for two in the staff room."

Dot's eyes widened, and she seemed about to say no, but then her eyes lit up and her lips set in a firm resolute line. "You know, I think that's precisely what I'll do. You're right. Maybe Hugh needs a little nudging."

"I'm sure he does." Phryne winked at her. "And if it all works out well, you could accompany him to a Quidditch game some time. I can find out when the Appleby Arrows have their next match, if you want."

"Ah." Dot seemed a little taken aback by her suggestion. "I'm afraid I never really got into Quidditch myself, what with being from a Muggle family and all. Now, if it was footie we're talking about…. My family have been fans of the Wolverhampton Wanderers forever." She thought for a moment. "Do you think I could persuade Hugh to give football a try? I bet he'd be good at it."

"Why not?" Phryne shrugged. She had never been into sports, one way or the other, but she certainly didn't mind watching men get hot and sweaty. "Either way, you can work your way up to something more romantic."

"That would be nice." Dot sighed. "My sister Nell has this boyfriend who takes her out to fancy French restaurants and to the movies. But I guess that's not really Hugh's style, right?"

"Probably not." Phryne couldn't help but smile at Dot's disappointment. "French restaurants are more of a Muggle thing, anyway, in my experience. But don't be too hard on Hugh, Dot. I thought he really did an amazing job when the shed was on fire. Quite impressive, don't you agree?"

"Quite." Dot's blush was permanent now, but the hint of a smile was playing around her lips.

"Yes, it was a pleasure watching him work." Phryne sighed dreamily. "And Jack as well. So nice to see a man who's not afraid to take charge and dirty his hands." _Especially if the man in question is so very nice to look at._

Dot nodded, clearly unsure of how to answer. "Well, I ought to be on my way, Miss- Phryne. Thank you again for the book."

"My pleasure, Dot." Phryne beamed at her. "And let me know if there's anything else I can do to help you."

As she watched the young professor leave, Phryne wondered whether she ought to talk to Hugh as well. Or maybe… Maybe that was a task better left to Jack Robinson. She would have to find a way to bring the topic up the next time she saw him.

* * *

The Entrance Hall was in an uproar.

When Jane and Ruth had finally managed to elbow their way through the crowds of students to the Headmistress's Magical Messaging Board, they found Ned and Kip in front of it, furiously arguing with Professor Mclean.

"But, Professor!" Two hectic red spots had appeared on Kip's face, and the look in his eyes could only be described as desperate. "You can't just cancel the match! Quidditch games are _never_ cancelled."

Over his shoulder, Jane could just about make out the writing on the board: _RAVENCLAW vs HUFFLEPUFF postponed until further notice._

"He's right," Ned valiantly supported Kip. "Nothing short of a hurricane can stop a match. Remember when Pride of Portree practically annihilated Puddlemere United last year during the big storm on Skye?"

"Yes, well, laddie…" Professor Maclean grimaced at Ned. "All our equipment burned down with the shed. Unless you propose playing without broomsticks, there's nothing much I can do."

"They played the 1862 League Championship without robes." Ned was clearly not ready to give up yet. "When the opposing team jinxed them off."

"Really?" Ruth whispered in Jane's ear. "He's just making that up, isn't he?"

"Nope." Jane categorically shook her head. "You know the _Portrait of the Young Quidditch Player_ , up in Gryffindor Tower? He's said to have scored the winning goal 'wearing nothing but a smile'."

Ruth giggled. "I think I would have liked to see that."

"Ruth!" Jane chided, but her heart wasn't in it. Secretly, she rather agreed with her friend.

"Look, young man." Professor Mclean clearly felt the discussion was over. "You can quote Quidditch legends at me all day long, but the fact remains that we don't have brooms. We can hardly just have you all chase after the ball on foot. That would be ridiculous, now, wouldn't it?"

"But we…" Kip broke off. "Yes, Professor. It's just-"

"Kip!" Jane had finally managed to get through to him. "We can talk to Miss Fisher." When she received a blank stare in return, she rolled her eyes at him. "About the brooms. Maybe she can do something about them."

"What could she possibly do? Buy us all new brooms?" Kip sounded terribly frustrated, and Jane relented a little. He had played Chaser for Hufflepuff for three years in a row, and only last year had given up his spot on the team to focus on his exams. "You know, our team had a really good chance of winning this year. Millie Wilton really put in the hours for once, and she's become a damn fine Seeker. We would have swept the floor with Ravenclaw." Realizing what he'd just said, he blushed a little. _Cute_. "Sorry, Jane. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay. And really, I'm sure Miss Fisher can help," Jane repeated, dragging him off to the side, with Ned and Ruth close behind them. "Say, have you seen Bernadette?"

"No. Why?" Kip's head was still firmly occupied with Quidditch, that much was obvious.

Jane gave him a little shove. "It's important! She said she had information about Kevin's death and Lila's disappearance."

"Yeah, I heard her bragging about it at lunch." Kip didn't seem impressed. "Oh, come on, Jane. You know Bernadette. She's just making a fool of herself, as usual. Remember when she told everyone she'd found a secret corridor leading to Madam Puddifoot's?"

Jane hesitated. Kip was right – Bernadette did have a history of making up tall tales. Still, maybe this time it was different. Maybe she really knew something. "We have to try. Have you really not seen her since lunch? Or Joan, at least?"

"Sorry, no clue." Kip shook his head. "I don't know, Jane. This is a murder case now. Shouldn't we leave the investigating to that auror? I'm sure he can handle it."

"Miss Fisher doesn't think so." Jane threw back her braids. " _She_ is going to get involved, you can bet on it."

"Yeah, well." Ruth, who had been silent so far, spoke up behind her. "We're not Miss Fisher, Jane. We really should focus on our school work. The exams-"

"Forget the exams!" Everyone stared at her in utter horror, and Jane felt her cheeks heat up. "Merlin. I can't believe I just said that. But really…" She ignored Ned's wide grin. "You do realize we're in a unique position here? The other students trust us. We can find out things they're never going to mention to the professors, or to that auror."

"Say, just for arguments sake, that you have a point there…" Kip raised his hand to stop her objections. "It would still be too dangerous, Jane. There's a murderer on the loose out there."

"I'll be careful." Jane bit her lip. "Look, I can look after myself."

"That's what you think," Kip muttered. "Sometimes you're so reckless. Really, sometimes I wonder why the Sorting Hat didn't put you in Gryffindor."

"Oh, shut up." Jane elbowed him in the ribs, but her heart wasn't in it. Some part of her silently rejoiced at the fact that he worried about her, but she wasn't about to admit that. "Anyway, there she is. Bernadette." She pointed across the Great Hall, doing her best to hide the sudden flood of relief at the sight of her fellow Ravenclaw.

"Where?" Ruth got on her toes to look over the heads of the assembled crowd. "Ah, yes. That's her, and Joan. Come on, Jane. We can catch them, if we hurry."

"Good luck with that." Kip shook his head. "Come on, Ned. We still have that Potions essay that's due tomorrow."

Jane and Ruth threw themselves into the throng again. Twice, they lost sight of Bernadette, but when they finally arrived at the other side of the Hall, Jane managed to grab her by the sleeve of her robes. "Bernadette! Wait!"

"Ouch!" Bernadette's face was flushed, and she seemed to be in a rush to get somewhere. "What's the matter, Jane? I really don't-"

"We need to talk." Impatiently, Jane grabbed her arm harder. "Look, you said you knew more about Kevin and Lila."

"Yeah, I do." Bernadette sounded bored, but surely, that was just an act? "But why would _you_ care?"

"Look, I just do." Jane wracked her head on how to convince Bernadette to talk, but then an idea struck her. "If you tell me what you know, I could talk to Miss-, to _Professor_ Fisher about it, and she could arrange for you to have a special interview with Auror Robinson. After all, you might be an important witness."

For a moment, Jane feared she'd been laying it on too thickly, but no. She had read Bernadette correctly.

"Could you really do that?" Bernadette visibly grew an inch or two at the thought of her own importance.

"I promise." Jane just barely refrained from rolling her eyes. "But you need to tell me more first."

"All right, I'll tell you. But not here." Bernadette glanced nervously around. "Meet me in our Common Room, tonight. Eleven o'clock, when everyone else is asleep. And don't tell anyone!"

"I won't. Thank you." Watching her amble off, Jane turned back to Ruth. "Well, that was a bit overly dramatic, don't you think? A secret rendezvous at night?"

"Let's just hope she really has something important to say." Ruth sighed. "Come on. We still have a ton of homework to do, and it's getting late."

* * *

Rose arrived at Phryne's office ten minutes after the set hour, looking even more sullen and defiant than usual. "I'm here for my detention, Professor."

"Ah, yes. Do sit down." Phryne reached for her wand. "Would you like a cup of tea and some biscuits?"

"I..." Rose seemed completely blindsided by the question, and it took her a moment to answer. Clearly, her first impulse had been to refuse, but then the allure of the biscuits won over. "Yes, please."

Phryne smiled to herself, while they waited for the tray from the kitchen to appear. It didn't take long, and as usual, the house elves didn't disappoint. The tea was hot and strong and delicious, and there was a large platter of assorted biscuits to go with it.

Rose picked a caramel shortbread, then sat back, her usual hostile expression returning. "What do you want me to do? For my detention, I mean."

Phryne took her time answering, slowly pouring herself a cup of tea and adding a dollop of cream. "Nothing, really." Ignoring Rose's soft gasp of surprise, she went on. "I just want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't." Rose flinched at her own brusqueness. "I mean... I'd rather have some writing assignment. Or whatever. I don't want to talk about my troubled childhood or anything." There was a world of contempt in the way she said the last words.

"All right." Phryne shrugged. "I'm not all that interested in your childhood either. And if you don't want to talk, maybe you can settle for listening?" She waited for Rose to nod, however reluctantly, before she continued. "You know, several years ago, when I was working a case with the Auror Office in Paris-"

"You've been to Paris?" It was the first flash of real interest Phryne had seen in the girl.

"I used to live there, for a while." Phryne smiled at the memory. "Anyway, back then, we were investigating a case of extortion, and we found proof that an organized crime syndicate was behind it. Much like what the papers here like to refer to as the 'Goblin Mafia'." Again, she carefully ignored Rose's sharp intake of breath. "I was a key witness, so the aurors found me a safe house where I could hide until the trial. Unfortunately, though, they had an informant in the Auror Office who gave away the address. They found me."

Rose' eyes were fixed on her as if glued to the spot. "What did the goblins do?"

Phryne took a deep breath. "There was only one of them. An enforcer they had paid to do their dirty work, and he was human. Well, technically he was human." She shivered at the memory. "I managed to get out a distress call, when I realized what was happening, and the aurors came to save me. It took them five minutes to arrive." She looked Rose in the eye. "Those were the longest five minutes of my life, Rose. I am not easily terrified. You'll find there's very little that I'm afraid of. But that man... I still have nightmares." Closing her eyes, she felt her mind go back to that horrible night, the tiny, cramped apartment on the upper floor of an old townhouse, the hoarse voice whispering _Crucio,_ over and over again, as she was begging for mercy.

There was a brief silence. Rose shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Why are you telling me this?"

Phryne held her gaze. "Because I want you to know that there's no shame in being afraid. There's no shame in having memories that you'd rather forget. And I am here to help you if you want. Do you?"

Rose didn't answer at once. When she finally did, her voice was barely audible, and she kept staring at her hands. "They said they were going to take me away, to pay for Grandfather's debts. They said..." She swallowed hard. "I would be worth a small fortune to the right buyer. A dark wizard maybe, who needed a sacrifice, or-" Rose broke off. "I was so scared."

"Of course you were." Phryne badly wanted to reach out to Rose and comfort her, but she wasn't sure she would be welcome, not yet. "And what happened then?"

"I... I set the living room curtains on fire." A weak smile was playing around Rose's lips. "I've always been good at fire spells. My father used to say I had a natural affinity because I was such a little firecracker." She laughed, but it was a small, bitter laugh. "It was all chaos afterwards, until the fire brigade arrived. And the aurors who arrested the goblins. My grandfather was furious at me. Said he could have handled it better by himself, without involving the authorities."

"But he didn't handle it, Rose. _You_ did, and you should be proud of yourself." Phryne dared taking a step forward, placing a careful hand on Rose's shoulder. "They can't harm you anymore, you know. If the aurors arrested them, they're in Azkaban now."

"I know." Rose nodded. "But I still sometimes wake up at night and think they're here."

"They can't harm you," Phryne repeated. "And I'm glad you told me."

Rose sobbed briefly, then dug out a handkerchief to blow her nose. "And what now?"

Phryne shrugged. "No more detention, as far as I'm concerned. Provided you stop picking on other students, of course. It's not their fault if you're unhappy."

"I will stop. Right away." Rose sounded so eager that Phryne had to smile.

"There's one more thing I'd like to talk to you about, though." She bit her lip. This was thin ice, and Phryne sincerely hoped her intuition had been correct. "It concerns your particular proclivity for pyrotechnics." She coughed delicately. "And the fire at the Quidditch shed."

Rose swallowed hard. "It was an accident. Really, Professor. I would never-" She broke off, gazing anxiously at Phryne's face.

"Go on." Phryne motioned for her to continue.

"I... I was bored, and I was playing around a bit, trying to see what would happen. I figured it would be exciting, that's all." Rose seemed close to tears. "I didn't expect it to go up in flames that quickly, I swear."

"I see." With a sigh, Phryne turned toward the window to hide her smile. It was always such a good feeling to have been right.

"I guess that means I'm going to be expelled?" Rose appeared genuinely grief-stricken, and rightly so. To have to leave school before her final exams would put a serious damper on any plans she might have for her future.

But Phryne didn't intend to ruin the girl's prospects, no matter what she had done. "That depends." She slowly turned back to face Rose. "What do you suggest we do about it?"

"I'd offer to pay for the damage, but I really can't. My family, I mean. We... We can't afford it." It was clear that the admission was painful for Rose.

"I'm not too worried about the damage. Hogwarts can afford it. And on the bright side, no one got hurt in the fire." Phryne sighed. "Tell you what, Rose... This stays between the two of us. My only condition is that you get help with your little fire problem." She reached for a quill. "I know someone in London who can help you, and I want you to make an appointment with her as soon as possible. Do we have a deal?"

Rose nodded quickly. "Of course."

"Good." Phryne quickly scribbled an address on a piece of parchment. "Here you go. Miss Jemima Littleton, an old friend of mine. She trained with a master healer in Switzerland, and I'm sure she'll be able to sort out your little problem in no time at all. We will all be much safer once you learn to control this."

"I promise I'll do my best." Rose took the paper and stared at it for a moment. When she looked up, her eyes were wide, and she suddenly looked very young. "Professor Fisher? What happened to Kevin?"

"I don't know." Phryne felt her mouth set in a grim line. "But I can assure you that I will find out."

"I'm sure you will." Rose's smile was crooked but genuine. "Thank you, Professor. For everything."

As the door fell shut behind her, Phryne breathed a deep sigh of relief. _That went well. Now if only I can make good on my own promises._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you familiar with my work may have guessed that keeping this T rated is a bit of a challenge for me. So, starting from now, I'll be posting companion pieces under the title "A Different Kind of Magic". The first one is set between chapters 11 and 12, so you might want to check it out before you read on.

"So I was wondering... What were you up to last night?" When Phryne raised her head in surprise, Mac grinned. "You weren't in your rooms, when I came over for a quick chat," she explained. "And you weren't here in the staff room either. As a matter of fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that I wouldn't have found you anywhere else in the castle either, am I right?" She was looking altogether too pleased with herself, lounging in a staff room chair with her feet up on a little table.

Phryne sighed. "Promise you won't tell Aunt P?"

When Mac nodded impatiently, she quickly cast a Muffliato spell, keeping an eye on the door, in case one of the other teachers should walk in. "I snuck away for a few hours after my little chat with Rose. Just a quick floo trip to London to blow off some steam."

"A rendezvous with your Chinese paramour?" Mac raised an admonishing eyebrow. "Yes, I can see why you wouldn't want your aunt to know. She'd be furious."

Phryne pouted. "I did ask her about going a while ago, but she was very unreasonable about it. What was I supposed to do? And anyway, what Aunt P doesn't know won't hurt her."

"I just hope our students don't subscribe the same philosophy." Mac pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "Ah, who am I kidding? Of course they do. Well, your aunt won't hear it from me. Mind you, it was still a risky thing to do. If someone had seen you..."

"Oh, come on." Phryne rolled her eyes skywards. "I badly needed some stress relief after all the drama this week. And besides, I never even set foot outside Lin's bedroom."

"I see." Mac cleared her throat. "I imagine he kept you busy there."

"He certainly did." Phryne smiled at the memory. "Besides, it looks as if this was our last chance to meet for a while. He owled me this morning before boarding a steamer to China. Apparently some problems have come up regarding his business partners there, and he wants to handle the matter in person." She hesitated briefly. "And I believe his grandmother wants him to go looking for a wife while he's there. She's been badgering him for quite some time to get married and carry on the family name."

"Ah." Mac nodded slowly. "So you won't be seeing him for a while?"

"It appears that way." Phryne glanced up to find Mac watching her closely.

"You don't seem heartbroken about it, if you'll allow me to say so." As usual, Mac was rather too perspicacious for her own good.

"True." Phryne shrugged. "See, I like Lin, but it's not as if I can't live without him. Though he is really, really talented, you know. There's that thing he does, with-"

"Please, Phryne, for the love of Morgana, spare me the details." Mac shuddered. "What about that Robinson fellow, then?"

"What about him?" Phryne took extra care to keep her tone light and unaffected, but of course there was no way she could fool her oldest friend.

"Just wondering…" Mac busied herself pouring tea for both of them, then handed Phryne a cup. "He doesn't fit your usual pattern. You know, love them, then leave them. Somehow I can't see Auror Robinson settling for a quick fling or an amorous adventure."

"No, probably not." The thought had occurred to Phryne, too, and it wasn't one she liked to dwell on. "More's the pity."

"He _is_ good-looking, I grant you that." Mac thoughtfully sipped from her cup. "And interesting to boot. There's more to him than meets the eye." She looked up to meet Phryne's amused gaze. "Still not interested in men, mind you, but if I were, he'd be top of my list."

"Mac! That's high praise indeed!" Phryne was more surprised by Mac's words than she let on. So far, very few of her lovers had earned even a tepid endorsement from her friend. "Anyway. Right now, I'm more interested in the case than in the man."

"You keep telling yourself that." Mac's tone was dry as dust. "But talking of the case, do you have any leads?"

"None so far." Phryne sighed. "Plenty of people who had a reason not to like Kevin, none who had a reason to kill him. Or so it seems. And even if we had a motive, we have no idea how exactly he was killed. Or even exactly when."

"Shortly after lunch, judging from the looks of the body. "Mac shrugged. "We may be able to say more once we have the results of the autopsy."

"Let's hope so." Phryne shivered. "I have a bad feeling about this, Mac. We're dealing with a person with very few scruples here. Kevin may not be the last victim."

* * *

"Are you really going to do this?" Ruth was sitting on her bed in their shared dorm, brushing her hair and eyeing Jane with an incredulous expression. "I'm telling you, if you keep playing along with Bernadette's dramatics, you're only going to make them worse."

"I have to try at least." Jane wrapped herself up tightly in her dressing gown. It was getting colder at night, and the fire in the Common Room was bound to have burned down completely at this late hour. "Maybe she really knows something."

"Well, I'm not going to hold my breath." Ruth yawned widely and reached for the book on her nightstand. _The Flap of the Cape_. Probably one of the flashy American novels she adored so much. Jane herself vastly preferred the classics, but she wasn't about to risk another spat by criticizing Ruth's reading choices.

"You never know. Even a blind gnome will sometimes dig up a juicy worm." Jane reached for the door handle. "Will you wait up for me?"

"Sure." Ruth grinned at her over the top of the book. "But try to be back before midnight, will you? I need my beauty sleep."

 _Yeah, well. So do I_. Jane slowly made her way down the stairs to the Common Room. Much as she had expected, it was chilly down there, but the moonlight entering through the arched windows provided enough light to see by. It was quite pretty, really. The dark blue carpet with its pattern of stars was more suited to the light of the night anyway, and the white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw took on a pearly sheen that made it look even more otherworldly than usual. Not for the first time, Jane was glad that the Sorting Hat had put her in Ravenclaw all those years ago. It really was the house that suited her best.

Bernadette was nowhere to be seen, which was a disappointment. Then again, maybe she was just late? Settling down on a window seat, Jane pulled her legs up and waited patiently, listening to the familiar noise of the wind howling around the tower. When she glanced at her watch again fifteen minutes later, there was still no sign of Bernadette.

 _What now?_ Should she go up and knock on her dorm room door? Knowing Bernadette, it was perfectly possible that she had overslept, or just forgotten about their meeting. Then again, Jane didn't want to wake Joan, who was probably fast asleep by now. Either way, there seemed little point in waiting any longer.

With a sigh, she got to her feet and was about to head for the stairs, when she noticed a silver goblet on the carpet, right next to the plushy blue divan in the far corner of the Common Room. It was easily the most comfortable seat in the room, regularly fought over by the younger students, and apparently someone had been getting a little too comfy there during the day. Jane frowned. If the First Years thought it was okay to just leave things lying around, she would have to have words with them. Surely the house elves deserved a little more respect.

But as she walked over to pick up the goblet, she saw something else, something that made her stomach clench in sudden fear. The divan's back was facing toward Jane, and when she'd entered the room, she hadn't bothered checking there, since it had appeared to be unoccupied. But now that she was getting closer, she saw that _someone_ was lying outstretched on the divan, with one hand dangling limply down its side. Jane couldn't see the person's face, but she recognized the long, chestnut-brown hair and the slightly shabby uniform skirt. _Bernadette_.

Slowly, Jane reached for her shoulder, dreading what she would find. "Bernadette?" There was no reply. "Bernadette!" she repeated, a little louder this time.

Still no response. Swallowing hard, Jane shook her a little. Bernadette's head lolled sideways, and now Jane could see her face. It took every ounce of control she had not to scream. Bernadette's lips were blue, her skin deathly pale in the light of the moon. But her eyes were the worst part. They were staring sightlessly past Jane's shoulder, and there wasn't the tiniest flicker of life in them.

"Bernadette," Jane whispered again, even though in her heart of hearts she knew it was pointless. There would be no reply.

And yet, she had to try. She had to do _something_ , anything. Administer Magical First Aid, maybe? They had all been given basic training at the beginning of Year Six, but that had been so long ago, and she was quite a bit hazy on the details. What was that spell called, the one that cleared a person's throat? _Anapneo_ , or something? But Bernadette didn't seem to be breathing at all, let alone struggling for breath. And would it be all right to move her? Or would that only make things worse? Jane felt stupid and useless. If only a teacher...

 _Professor MacMillan._ When the thought hit her, she almost sobbed with relief. _She_ would know what to do. With a last glance back at Bernadette, Jane hurried toward the door. _Help_. She needed help.

Professor MacMillan's quarters were right by the tower entrance, but it seemed to take an eternity to get down the stairs, even though Jane nearly stumbled and fell several times in her haste to get there. When Jane knocked, the door opened straight away. Clearly, the Professor hadn't been asleep yet.

"What is it?" She was still fully dressed, too, much to Jane's relief. Although, what did such things really matter at a moment like this?

"Please, Professor, you need to come with me." Jane hardly recognized her own voice. She sounded like a tiny, frightened child. "Quickly. It's Bernadette, up in the Common Room. I can't seem to wake her." She was mad at herself for not being more coherent.

Professor MacMillan didn't waste a moment. "Get the Matron. Quickly." Already, she was well past Jane, on her way up the tower stairs.

"But Professor... It may be too late." Jane swallowed hard. "I think-"

"Get her anyway." Professor MacMillan's voice was barely audible from up there, near the top of the stairs. "Run!"

Jane did her best. But when she arrived back at the Tower in the Matron's company less than fifteen minutes later, Professor MacMillan was quietly sitting by Bernadette's side, shaking her head. "No need to rush, Alice. There's nothing you can do."

"Is she...?" Jane's throat felt as dry as old parchment.

"Yes. Dead as a door nail. Poisoned, from the looks of it." With the help of her wand, Professor MacMillan carefully levitated the goblet to the top of the table. "I'll take this to the potions lab and see what I can find out."

"There's a letter, too." The Matron was feeling Bernadette's pulse, shaking her head sadly. "In her right hand."

Jane forced herself to look at Bernadette's still body. It was true. She was clutching a plain parchment envelope, so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. 

"What's the matter?" That was Ruth, standing at the foot of the stairs to the dorms, looking tired and worried. "Jane?"

"We need to wake the auror. And the Headmistress." Professor MacMillan got to her feet with a brisk, determined air that Jane rather envied. "Jane, Ruth. Go and get them. And get Miss Fisher, too, while you're at it. I will inform Joan and the others."

* * *

Joan's face was pale and wan, and her eyes appeared huge behind her thick spectacles. Clearly, the girl was scared out of her mind by her best friend's sudden demise. Jack cursed himself for having allowed this to happen. This was the part of his job he detested most – these moments when the guilt was eating at him, the feeling that he should have done more, should have foreseen the worst before it happened. What was the point in solving crimes if you couldn't prevent them?

Shaking off the feeling, he forced himself to focus. "So you don't think Bernadette was unhappy? She had no reason to harm herself?"

"No!" Joan's voice was trembling almost as much as her hands. "Bernadette would never-" A huge sob swallowed whatever she had been about to say.

"It's fine. You can go back to your room now." Jack nodded at Professor MacMillan who was standing right next to the girl. "Can someone stay with her?"

"Of course." Professor MacMillan nodded briskly. "I'll ask one of the other girls."

As soon as the door fell shut behind them, Jack turned to face the other two people present in the room. Hugh Collins was looking a bit dishevelled, with his hair ruffled and his teacher's robes hastily thrown on over his pyjamas, but Miss Fisher was, as always, immaculately dressed and coiffed. But then, she probably was a late-night kind of person anyway.

"So… What do you think?" Jack was looking at Hugh, but it was Miss Fisher who answered first.

"I think I am going to eat my very expensive hat if this really was a suicide." Her voice was dripping with disdain. "This so-called 'suicide note' reeks of manipulation, if you ask me."

"It seems genuine enough to me." Hugh picked up the letter. " _I can't go on any longer. Please forgive me._ What's wrong with that?"

Miss Fisher made a very unladylike snorting noise. "Oh, please. That's as generic as you can get. They couldn't even come up with something a little more creative?"

Jack nodded. "You may have a point. This doesn't sound like a desperate schoolgirl. More like a cheap novel. Then again, we've already established that some schoolgirls are into cheap novels."

"Besides, Joan confirmed it's Bernadette's handwriting." Hugh pointed to the letter. "And I compared it to some of her schoolwork. I'm pretty sure Bernadette wrote this note."

"There are ways of achieving that." Miss Fisher made a dismissive gesture. "Whoever forced the poor girl to drink poison could also have forced her to write this note."

"You mean, with the help of an Imperius curse?" Jack pondered. "It's possible. Most people have a natural reluctance to use unforgivable curses, but if a person is ready to kill... Yes, I agree. For a murderer, it really isn't that inconceivable."

"Exactly." Miss Fisher nodded emphatically. "Our murderer is behind this, trust me. Don't forget what Jane said. Bernadette knew something about Kevin's death. What better way to silence her than a fake suicide?" She shuddered. "Poor girl. What a horrible way to go. I don't believe for a moment she did this to herself."

Secretly, Jack agreed with her, but procedures had to be followed. "We definitely can't rule out your murder theory. But we can't discount the suicide angle either at this stage, no matter what you believe." Raising a hand to silence Miss Fisher's protests, he reached for his notes. "Now, from what Professor Stanley said, Bernadette had some problems with her schoolwork. She had failing grades in… let me check. Ah, here it is. Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"You think she killed herself because she her grades weren't up to snuff?" Miss Fisher shook her head. "Forgive me if I'm not convinced."

"The N.E.W.T. results are critical for a student's career. Maybe she was desperate." Jack sighed. "It happens."

"But the exams are months away." Miss Fisher wasn't about to be swayed. "She had plenty of chances to improve her grades. What do you say, Hugh? Was it really that bad?"

"Not really, no." Hugh Collins slowly shook his head. "She'd handed in some poor work, but her wand work was decent. With a little effort, she could have passed. I would certainly have given her the chance to earn some extra credit if she was worried."

"See?" Miss Fisher's expression was positively triumphant. "I will have a word with Professor Turner first thing tomorrow. I'm sure she will say the same thing."

"Well, if she confirms your doubts, and if Bernadette really was forced to drink poison…" Jack suddenly felt incredibly weary. "It means we have a second murder on our hands. With a completely different modus operandi, so the worst case would be that we are looking at more than one killer."

"Or at a killer with an impressive repertoire." Miss Fisher seemed far more positive than Jack felt. "Either way, I'm sure we'll stand a better chance of solving this once we've had a good night's sleep. Jack." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Hugh. Sleep well." And she was gone.

"Phew." Hugh looked exhausted, too. "Wish I had her optimism. Or her energy." He yawned widely. "Anything else before we call it a night?"

"Not really." Jack smiled at Collins. He was a good man, and he had been a good auror. Jack was still sorry that he had had to let him go. "But I feel we ought to have another chat about Miss Williams at some point, Hugh. You're not about to let her walk away from you, are you?"

"Well, I'm not sure, sir. Jack." Hugh cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean, I like her. A lot, I mean. And I did ask her to chaperone the Midwinter Dance with me, as you suggested. But I'm just not sure. What with her being Muggle-born…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, man. So her family are Muggles." Jack couldn't believe his ears. "It's not as if she were born with two heads."

"No, sir, of course not." Hugh was blushing now. "It's just my mother. She… she's very old-fashioned and she has always dreamed of me marrying a girl from a good wizarding family. I doubt she'd understand."

"Well, we're not talking about marriage yet, Hugh." Jack just barely suppressed an aggravated sigh. "It's just a dance."

Hugh nodded, appearing relieved. "Yes. Just a dance. Absolutely. Well, good night, Jack."

"Good night, Hugh." Jack watched him go before heading back to his own quarters. For a moment, he felt quite wistful. _Oh, to be young and in love again._ Then again, he thought wryly, as he unlocked the door to his quarters, if he was quite honest, he was glad to be done with this kind of drama. There were distinct advantages to a life untroubled by romantic overtures.  
  



	13. Chapter 13

"Helen? Could I have a word, please?" Phryne put on her most winning smile. "It won't take long, I promise."

Much as Phryne had surmised, Professor Turner had arrived at her classroom well before the beginning of the day's lessons, with plenty of time to get ready for the day. The woman was well organised, without a doubt. On the bright side, this gave Phryne a chance to talk to her without having to forgo breakfast in the quiet of her own room - which she much preferred to the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall.

"Sure." Helen Turner seemed astonished to see her, but not unduly so. "I assume this is about Bernadette?"

"You've heard. Of course." Phryne felt a pang. _Bad news always travels fast._

"As has everyone in the castle by now, I presume." Professor Turner sighed deeply. "Poor, poor girl. Someone mentioned it was suicide?"

"She did leave a note." Phryne decided not to mention their doubts about the suicide theory for the moment. "Apparently, she was struggling with several school subjects, yours among them."

Helen Turner raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. She wasn't really too bright, poor soul. Some of the work she turned in was decidedly below my usual standards for N.E.W.T. candidates."

"So you think this could have been a reason why she killed herself? Despair about her failing grades?" Phryne did her best to sound neutral, but it was hard to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

"I never said that, did I?" Professor Turner shook her head. "As I said, the girl wasn't exactly the second coming of Rowena Ravenclaw. But she wasn't hopelessly stupid either. She'd been taking extra lessons with me for a while, and I believe she was well on her way to a passing grade." There was a belligerent gleam in her eyes. "I take a personal interest in my students' success, Phryne. The girl had no reason to think I would let her fail, if she made an effort."

"I didn't mean to suggest that." As a matter of fact, Phryne felt quite relieved at having her own thoughts on the matter confirmed. "I'm sorry if I implied anything of the sort."

Professor Turner nodded, but she still seemed a tad offended. Clearly, a change of subject was in order. Picking up one of the Transfiguration textbooks on the teacher's desk, Phryne leafed idly through the pages. "Ah, the good old _Beginner's Guide_. I always enjoyed Transfigurations at school, you know. As a matter of fact, I still remember my very first lesson. Our teacher - dear old Professor Radcliffe - turned himself into a Dalmatian, right there, in front of his desk." She smiled fondly at the memory. "I was so impressed. He was a very handsome Dalmatian, too."

Professor Turner sighed. "Yes, the First Years are always easily dazzled by such flashy tricks. Myself, I prefer a more sober approach. Transfiguration is a precise science, and its execution is not without risks. In my opinion, it shouldn't be undertaken for frivolous reasons." Taking the book from Phryne's hands, she slammed it firmly shut and returned it to its place on the desk.

"Ah, what's the worst that can happen?" Phryne shrugged airily. Of course there _had_ been that unfortunate little incident, back in her Fourth Year, when she had turned Mac's owl Hippolyta bright pink... Mac had been livid and had vowed never to forgive her, but it had all turned out just fine in the end, hadn't it? "Mistakes are the best learning opportunities, in my opinion."

"That is certainly one way of looking at it." Professor Turner cleared her throat. "Was there anything else? The students should be here any minute."

"Nothing else, thank you." Phryne picked up her own stack of textbooks. "Unless you can think of anything that could shed light on Bernadette's death?"

"Now that you mention it..." Professor Turner hesitated. "No, it's probably not important."

"Go on." Phryne was intrigued. In her experience, the details people deemed irrelevant were often the key to solving the case.

"Well, I saw her with Professor Ford last night." Helen Turner seemed unwilling to say more, but when Phryne gestured for her to go on, she relented. "He was standing very close to her, and he was talking to her. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he had taken hold of her arm and he seemed very intent on making her listen. The girl seemed a tad uncomfortable, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Interesting." Phryne made a mental note to mention this to Jack as soon as possible. _Very interesting_. "Well, I'll leave you to your work. Have a good day."

"You, too, Phryne." Professor Turner's smile was brief and perfunctory, and she was already fully focussed on the first arriving students. "See you at lunch."

* * *

"All right, everyone, listen to me, please." Hugh Collins awkwardly raised both hands in an effort to silence the assembled Seventh Year students. "Will you listen, please?"

His words had little to no effect on the noise level in the room. When the door opened to admit Dorothy Williams, carrying a big gramophone case with a stack of records balanced precariously on top of it, the buzz of excitement grew even louder. _Finally some real music!_ someone right behind Jane muttered. She barely resisted the urge to turn around and roll her eyes at them. It was true, they rarely got a chance to listen to music here at Hogwarts, except for the choir's traditional songs, and those were a bit of an acquired taste, at least if you weren't into croaking toads. But Jane highly doubted there would be any jazz or music hall tunes to dance to tonight.

Putting down her load, Professor Williams quickly and efficiently set up the gramophone, ignoring the hubbub in the room. When she was done, she quietly muttered a Sonorus charm, pointing her wand at her throat. "Now, if everyone could just settle down, we are ready to get started."

There were a few more nervous giggles, but most of the students immediately stopped talking to stare expectantly at the pair.

"Right." Hugh Collins raised himself to his full height. "As you all know, it's only a few weeks until the Midwinter Tea Dance. Professor Williams and myself will be your chaperones for the dance, so it falls to us to prepare you properly for the event."

"Or in other words, we are going to show you a few basic dance moves." Professor Williams smiled brightly at everyone. "After all, since Madam Puddifoot has been kind enough to arrange this for us, we don't want to disappoint her by making a spectacle of ourselves. We have brought some music..." She pointed to the stack of records. "And Professor Collins and I will demonstrate the steps."

While she was talking, Professor Collins had picked the first record and carefully wound up the gramophone. A slow, rather stodgy waltz began to play, and a few students in the back sighed quietly. Jane couldn't blame them. After spending the summer at Aunt Phryne's house, she was used to far more exciting fare herself.

"Will you teach us the new Muggle dances, too?" Kitty Pace looked at the teachers with huge pleading puppy eyes. "The Jitterbug? Or at least the Charleston?"

"Certainly not." Collins disapprovingly shook his head. "You will learn the waltz and the foxtrot. And maybe, if all goes well, we'll throw in the polka." Ignoring their disappointed murmurs, he extended his hand toward Professor Williams. "But first, we need to teach you the proper dance hold."

Taking her hand in his, he raised both of them high to show the students. "Each pair consists of a Leader, that's the wizard, and a Follower, the witch. Please watch us first, then get together in pairs to practise. Now, the Leaders take the Followers' right hands into their left hands. And then-"

Dropping his arm, he pulled Professor Williams into a proper dance hold. "See? The wizard's right hand goes just underneath the witch's left shoulder blade, like this..." His own hand was trembling a little as he demonstrated the correct position. "While the witch places her left arm on the wizard's shoulder. Now your other two hands should remain at eye level at all times. Understood?"

There was a chorus of assenting voices. Professor Williams was gazing down at her own feet, Jane noticed, and she looked rather adorable all flushed and nervous like this.

"Now, don't hesitate to get close together. Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Williams. I didn't mean to-" Eager to follow his own advice, he had placed his big, sensible shoe firmly on his dance partner's dainty little foot. Jane flinched at the mere thought of being in her place.

"It's fine." Professor Williams was smiling bravely through the pain. "All right, everyone, find a partner, please."

Before Jane could so much as blink, Ruth had already grabbed Ned's hand, leaving her to dance... with Kip, of course. Kip, who was smiling at her and extending a hand toward her. "Well, Jane? Think we can manage?"

And suddenly his arm was around her, and his hand was warm on her back, warm and firm and _nice_ , and Jane could have smacked Ruth. This was far too close, far too intimate for 'just good friends', wasn't it? Or maybe she was just a prude, and it was all perfectly harmless? Yet, here they were, so close together that she could see every little fleck of colour in his blue eyes, every tiny blond hair on his cheeks, and Merlin, why did he have to be so damn _cute_?

The teachers were going from one couple to the other, checking for mistakes, which meant they had to keep up the pose for what seemed an eternity. Jane felt stiff and clumsy, but Kip seemed undaunted, carefully adjusting their respective positions until he noticed her discomfort. "What's the matter? Don't you want to learn?"

Jane was mad at herself for being so transparent. "I do, it's just..." She sighed. "What's the point? With all those deaths and disappearances, they're bound to cancel the dance anyway, don't you think?"

Kip shrugged, and the little movement brought him even closer to her. "Maybe. Or maybe that auror chap will sort it all out in a jiffy and we can go back to normal. Either way, this is fun!"

He grinned at her, and Jane's heart missed a beat. She really had to distract herself before she said or did anything she'd regret later. "I don't think the auror can handle it all by himself. I mean, he doesn't know Hogwarts like we do, and no one is going to trust him enough to talk about their secrets. Just look at what happened to Bernadette, just because-"

"Of course. Bernadette." Kip's grin disappeared in a heartbeat.

"I'm sorry, Kip." Jane immediately regretted her words. _Way to ruin everybody's day._ "I shouldn't have mentioned her. Not while we're-"

"No, you're right." Kip's grip on her hand tightened. "We can't just ignore this. I promise I'll help you investigate. Just... we need to be careful. If there's really a murderer on the loose, it might be dangerous."

"Don't worry." Jane beamed at him, her earlier concerns completely forgotten. "Thanks, Kip. I knew I could rely on you."

Just then, the teachers finally called for a break, and they stepped apart with one last smile at each other. Jane turned to find Ruth and Ned right next to them, and she just about managed to overhear the final words of their conversation.

"I told you they're perfect for each other." Ruth sounded excited. "Just like-"

"Who is?" Jane glared daggers at her. If Ruth was going to suggest-

"Who? Oh... Professor Williams and Professor Collins, of course." Ruth's face was a picture of wounded innocence. "Aren't they adorable together?"

Jane followed her gaze to the front of the room, where Professor Collins had pulled his fellow teacher back in his arms again and was now demonstrating how to twirl her around.

"They are." She couldn't help but smile at the sight. "They definitely are. Now..." She took Kip's hand again. "Let's try this out. How hard can it be?"

* * *

Jack Robinson wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up in Miss Fisher's quarters for a nightcap yet again. Of course they had plenty to discuss, with a second possible murder to investigate, but there was really no reason why they shouldn't have this conversation in the staff room, with Hugh Collins and maybe even Professor MacMillan present to weigh in on the matter.

Except... if he was totally honest, he much preferred being here, with just her, in a cozy armchair in front of the fireplace, listening to her voice laying out the latest developments. It had been a long time since he'd had a worthy partner to bounce ideas off during an investigation, and the fact that said partner was also a remarkably beautiful and self-assured woman wasn't entirely lost on him.

"What do you make of Professor Ford's connection to Bernadette?" Her eyes were glittering with excitement, and Merlin, had he ever met anyone who was so full of _life_? Miss Fisher was just buzzing with energy, so hungry for new experiences, so curious about the world that it made him feel old and jaded in comparison.

Forcing his mind back on the case, he pondered for a moment before replying. "It certainly seems fishy that he was talking to her so shortly before her death. And Professor Turner said he was holding on to her arm, right?" He made a face.

"Professor Ford is an old-fashioned fellow." Miss Fisher's expressive face made it abundantly clear what she thought of her colleague. "He probably thinks he'd be well within his rights to physically restrain a student until she'd listened to his words of wisdom."

"But we don't know what exactly he was saying to her, do we?" Wearily, Jack rubbed his forehead. "For all we know, it could have been perfectly harmless. A reminder to do her homework, maybe."

"Maybe." Miss Fisher reached for the carafe filled with firewhisky, and on finding it nearly empty, frowned at it before picking up two glasses. "Ah, I don't know. This is all far too vague to be helpful."

"True." Jack sighed. "I'm going to arrange for another interview with Professor Ford tomorrow. And maybe you can ask the students if they have noticed similar behaviour from him."

"Good idea." Handing him one glass, Miss Fisher took a slow, languorous sip from her own. "Now, so far all Jane has come up with-"

Breaking off right in the middle of the sentence, she let her glass drop to the carpet, clutching her own throat with both hands as she made a retching noise. "Jack!" The look in her eyes was one of sheer panic, and it made Jack's chest contract painfully.

"Phryne! Damn it, what-" He reacted on pure instinct.

It took only a moment to grab the bezoar from his coat pocket and to take hold of her body. She was already starting to convulse, so he forced her lips open with one hand, while pushing the stone between them. She struggled for a second, disoriented and in panic, but then she went limp in his arms, her eyes falling shut.

"Phryne?" Carefully, he lowered her to the floor, watching her like a hawk until her breathing had normalised and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Jack?" Her voice was weak. "Was that..."

"A bezoar." Jack nodded. "I always carry one. Ever since the Sanderson case." He had lost one of his best men to the dark wizard's wiles back then, and he had vowed that no death from poisoning would ever happen again on his watch, as long as he could prevent it.

"I have to say I'm impressed." Miss Fisher was gazing up at him, a hint of amusement in her beautiful blue eyes. "Thank you for saving my life, Auror Robinson."

He realised that he was still holding her tightly, and she had made no move to free herself from his embrace. Clearing his throat, he slowly pulled back a little. "Better now?"

Holding his gaze for a moment longer, she seemed about to say something, but then she nodded instead, sitting up gingerly and straightening the hem of her skirt which had ridden up a little. "Do you realise what this means, Jack? We must be getting closer."

"Well, that was certainly pretty close." He shuddered briefly. "If I hadn't carried the bezoar... _True apothecary, thy drugs are quick."_

Her eyes opened a little wider. "Well, fortunately not quite as quick as you were, Jack. No dying with a kiss for me… yet." She shook her head with a little laugh. "You continue to surprise me, Auror Robinson. A wizard who quotes Shakespeare… That's unusual, to say the least."

Jack shrugged, secretly pleased that she had recognised the line. "I have found that some Muggle literature is well worth knowing."

"I agree." Flinching a little, Phryne got back to her feet, extending a hand to help him up. "Though dear old Will did have some rather abstruse ideas about witches. Either way..." Carefully, she used her wand to lift the glass from the carpet. "We ought to ask Mac to examine the whisky. I bet it's the same poison that was used on Bernadette."

"Which makes the suicide option even less likely," Jack pointed out. "Unless we assume that Bernadette's ghost was out to poison you."

"Jack!" Miss Fisher threw him an admonishing look. "But I agree. We definitely do have a murderer on our hands. And if he or she thinks I can be frightened off like this, they are sorely mistaken." Her eyes had lost none of their sparkle, as she turned back to flash a bright smile at him. "We're going to solve this case together, Jack. And we're going to do it soon. We make a very good team, don't you think?"


	14. Chapter 14

"Sweet Morgana, isn't he amazing?" Ruth was staring at Tom Derrimut with such undisguised admiration that Jane couldn't help but smile. "I could never have parried that curse! Never in a million years."

Tom was standing in the middle of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, wand extended, face flushed with excitement after fending off a rather vicious attempt to make his wand melt. Col Richards, his opponent and fellow Gryffindor, had taken on the part of dark wizard and was succeeding maybe a little too well at channelling the spirit of the dark arts. All the other students were standing in a circle around those two, the desks and chairs having been moved to the side to make room for their practical lesson. Those were always popular with the students, especially since Professor Collins did have a particular knack for arranging practice fights with evenly matched opponents.

"Well done, Tom! That's ten points for Gryffindor." Professor Collins didn't look quite as smitten as Ruth, but he was beaming with pride at seeing all his lessons paying off so well. "Now, remember, an Impediment Jinx will slow your opponent down, but that doesn't mean you've already won. Or in other words, you can't let your guard down just yet!" He turned to face the rest of the class. "Who can tell me more about the limits of this particular jinx?"

Automatically, Jane raised her hand. "It's all but useless against armoured opponents. And if your aim is to knock your opponent back, a Stunning Spell would be a far better choice."

"A perfect answer, Miss Ross. That's five points to Ravenclaw." Professor Collins nodded genially at Jane. "Now, could someone please come forward and demonstrate a Stunning Spell for us? Any volunteers?"

A number of students eagerly raised their arms while Jane took a step back, glad to be spared the ordeal of showing off her wand work in front of everyone. She could do a decent Stunning Spell in a pinch, but it really wasn't one of her strong points.

Jane had taken N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts because it was one of the requirements for Healer training, which she had considered for a while last year. Besides, Miss Fisher had instilled in her the necessity of being able to defend herself against any kind of attack, magical or otherwise. Still, it wasn't her favourite subject by any stretch of the imagination, and she would have much preferred to spend her time at the library with a good book.

Ruth's eyes were still fixed on Tom Derrimut, who had taken off his robes and rolled back his shirtsleeves. Her mouth was half open, and her cheeks flushed, and she was breathing just a tiny bit faster than usual. Jane couldn't blame her. All that fighting training with Professor Collins had really paid off for Tom, and even if he wasn't Jane's type, she could appreciate his strong brown forearms as much as the next girl. Yet, she couldn't resist teasing her friend a little.

"Seems to me you're _very_ interested in Defense of the Dark Arts all of a sudden." Jane elbowed Ruth lightly in the ribs. "Or could it be that your interest isn't purely academic?"

"Assuming that were true..." Ruth tore her eyes away from Tom for long enough to pinch Jane's arm expertly. "Why not? He's cute." She'd kept her voice to a mere whisper, even though the only student close enough to overhear them was Joan, who was still wholly wrapped up in her grief over Bernadette.

"He is," Jane admitted generously. "If you like the brawny type."

Ruth grinned, not at all put out. "Yes, well, we all know _you_ have other preferences. Speaking of which... How is Kip doing? I didn't see him at breakfast."

"Ruth! I told you that's over and done with." Jane felt a blush coming on and firmly fought to keep it off her face. "He's fine, as far as I know. Still mad about the Quidditch match, but hey, they really can't play without brooms, can they?"

"Oh, so you haven't heard?" Ruth was clearly happy to be the one in the know for once. "About the donation?"

"What donation?" Jane felt a teensy bit irritated at her friend's smug tone.

"A set of fourteen brand-new Comet 140s, delivered last night on behalf of an anonymous benefactor. Or rather _benefactrix_ , I'm guessing." Ruth raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Bert Johnson found them in the Entrance Hall, nicely wrapped up, with a note attached that said they are to be used by all the players in official matches in the future, 'to even out the chances'. It makes sense, don't you think? Why should the team with the richest players always be the one to win, just because they can afford better equipment?"

"Why indeed?" Jane felt a happy grin raise to her cheeks. She'd known Aunt Phryne would come through. "So the match is back on?"

"Not yet." Ruth shook her head. "Apparently the Headmistress thinks it would be too dangerous, what with Kevin's accident and all the rest."

"Such a shame!" Jane sighed. "Kip is not going to be happy about this. I hope-"

"Miss Ross?" Jane flinched when she realized Professor Collins was giving her a look that vacillated between anger and disappointment. The other student had long since finished their demonstration, and the professor was looking expectantly at Ruth and Jane. "Anything you'd like to add?"

_Darn_! Jane had no idea what he'd been talking about. "Nothing, Professor." Meekly, she lowered her gaze, hoping he would let it go.

"Right." Professor Collins was already back on topic, thankfully. "Now, some creatures have a natural resistance against Stunning Spells. Who- Yes, Col?"

Next to Jane, Ruth sighed. "I can handle the Quidditch match being cancelled. But what about the Dance? Miss Fisher said she'd get us new robes, and-"

"Shhh." Jane glared at her from the corner of her eye. "We'll just have to hope that Miss Fisher and the auror solve the case soon," she whispered. "And maybe we can help, too."

Ruth didn't answer, but she looked worried and hesitant. Jane felt a wave of impatience rise inside her. Why did Ruth always have to be so cautious? _Well, if she won't try, I will,_ she vowed to herself. _I won't give up._

* * *

"Miss Fisher! Wait for me!" Dot Williams came running up the steps to the owlery right behind Phryne. She was carrying a large box, neatly wrapped in brown paper, and she was breathing hard with the effort.

"Hello, Dot." Phryne smiled brightly at the young woman. "My, but that is a substantial parcel."

Dot blushed. "Yes, well. I've been knitting a lot lately. It's for my sister's baby, you see. Store-bought clothes are just not the same."

"You are such a sweetheart." Phryne felt a rush of warm affection as she tied a letter addressed to Lin to the leg of a sleek tawny owl. _Just like Dot, to always put others first._ It was high time someone taught the girl to look out for herself just as much as she did for the rest of the world. "I hope your sister appreciates it."

"Oh, I'm sure she will," Dot replied absent-mindedly. She was holding a sturdy-looking owl, considering its ability to carry the parcel with a sceptical frown. "Yes. You should do." When she turned to face Phryne, the frown had deepened. "There's been a rumour going round the staff room claiming that someone tried to poison you. I told Professor Turner that surely that had to be an exaggeration, but..." Her voice trailed off.

_Damn it! Why do teachers have to be such a gossipy bunch?_ The last thing Phryne wanted was to scare poor Dot, but at the same time she owed her an honest answer. "There was a small incident, yes. Nothing a judiciously applied bezoar couldn't solve, though."

"So it is true?" Dot's hand went to her heart in an unselfconscious gesture. "Someone tried to kill you? How horrible!"

"It wasn't that bad." Phryne gave her owl a gentle nudge out of the window, avoiding Dot's gaze. "And thanks to Auror Robinson's quick thinking, I escaped unharmed."

"He saved you." Dot sighed dreamily, but then her face turned serious again. "Thank Merlin he was there."

Phryne shrugged. "He was certainly helpful. Though I've built up an immunity to most poisons over the years. It's unlikely it would have killed me before I got to the hospital wing."

"But-" Dot seemed to have forgotten all about her own owl who was giving her a reproachful look and pecking softly at her hand, trying to get her to speed up. "Why would anyone want to kill you? You, of all people?" Her sweet face bore such a fiercely protective expression that Phryne had to hide a smile.

"Trust me, it wouldn't be the first time someone felt I was sticking my nose where it doesn't belong and tried to frighten me off." Phryne waved her off, eager to change the subject. "They haven't succeeded so far, and I'll make sure they won't in the future."

Secretly, she felt quite a bit more shaken than she cared to admit. Mac had turned pale as a sheet when she'd examined the contents of Phryne's whisky tumbler in the morning. "Damn it, Phryne. Whoever did this wasn't messing around. Without that bezoar, you'd be pushing up the daisies by now."

"Anyway..." Phryne beamed at Dot who had finally succeeded in sending her owl on the way. "Jane told me about your dancing lesson. I take it Hugh Collins is an agreeable dance partner?"

Dot grimaced a little, but her cheeks were glowing with affection. "He's a bit clumsy, but I don't mind. And the students were really eager to learn. With a little practice, I'm sure everyone will do fine."

"Well, that's good." Phryne smiled to herself. "And how are your plans for later at night coming along?"

Dot sighed, some of her enthusiasm draining away. "I had a chat with the house elves this morning. They are going to help me with setting up dinner and candles and the lot. Provided there will even be a dance, of course. I don't see how we can have one with people getting murdered right and left."

"True." Phryne thoughtfully chewed on her lower lip. "Now, I wonder-"

"Professor Fisher. And Professor Williams." Bert Johnson interrupted her line of thought, nodding a terse greeting at the both. "Would you mind stepping aside for a bit? Some of us have work to do, you know." He was carrying a large bucket and a shovel and wearing a large leather apron. "That muck won't clean itself out." Bert pointed at the layer of owl feathers and other various unmentionable substances on the floor with a grimace of disgust.

"'Afternoon, ladies." Cec Yates was hard on his heels, but instead of Bert's customary scowl, his face bore a far more genial expression. He, too, was wearing a leather apron, and a pair of stiff leather gloves. "Come to post your letters, have you? And how are our birdies doing on this fine day?" He grabbed a tiny owl from its perch and gently smoothed down its wings.

"Cec. Bert." Phryne nodded at them. "How nice to see you both."

Bert grunted something unintelligible in response as he stepped past her and raised his shovel, ready to attack the muck. Carefully, Phryne stepped aside to let him get on with his work. She really had no desire to get closer to the smelly substance than absolutely necessary.

Cec made a vaguely apologetic gesture in Phryne's direction before he returned his attention to the owl. The tiny bird was frantically pecking at him and fluttering its wings in agitation. "Shhh, now, calm down, you little bugger. Yes, that's better... Ow!" With a pained expression, he rubbed his arm, just above the gloves. "Damn it!"

"Can I give you a hand?" Slowly, Phryne extended a hand toward the bird. Her own gloves wouldn't be much protection against its sharp little beak, but they were better than nothing. Thankfully, the owl settled a little when she stroked its plumage and it finally allowed Cec to check its claws.

"That's better. Thank you, Miss." Cec threw her a grateful glance. "Usually I can get Arthur to help me out with the birds, but he's not well today. Upset about the deaths, you see. And now that Kevin is gone-"

"Kevin?" Phryne raised a surprised eyebrow. "What did he have to do with the owls?"

"Oh, he was really into birds." Cec's smile was more than a little wistful. "Birds of prey, especially, you know, buzzards and the like. Used to offer to come and help me with the owls, and he was really good with them, too. Gentle and patient. Not like some of the other kids."

"Yeah, well. Fat lot of good that did him." Bert's face was grim, but Phryne wasn't fooled. For all his grumbling, Bert cared about the students and he was genuinely upset about Kevin's and Bernadette's untimely demise.

And while she found it hard to reconcile Cec's description with the Kevin she had known, Phryne felt a pang at the thought of those young lives cut short in such a horrible manner. She had seen her fair share of death and injustice, but somehow, she would never get used to it. Still, it was no good getting maudlin about it. Far better to do what she could to set things right.

"Well, we'll get out of your way then. Good-bye gentlemen." Shaking out her hair as if she could get rid of the dark thoughts, Phryne turned back to her companion. "Come on, Dot. Let's head back to the staff room. I believe we have some work of our own to do."

* * *

"You coming, Jane?" Ruth glanced over her shoulder with an air of barely concealed impatience. "We still have a ton of homework to do before dinner."

"Just a moment." With a sigh, Jane picked up the large stack of books on her desk. "They're Bernadette's," she explained, when Ruth raised a questioning eyebrow. "Professor Turner asked me to return them to the library."

"Poor Bernadette," Ruth muttered perfunctorily. "Wait. I'll give you a hand." She extended a hand toward the stack.

"That's sweet of you." Jane smiled at her friend. So nice to know that they had each other, no matter how everything else was going. "I'll just check whether... Ooops! What's that?" A bit of parchment had tumbled from the book she'd been leafing through.

"Who cares? Probably just a note she wrote to Joan." Ruth rolled her eyes. "Come on, Jane. How important can it be? It's just gossip, I bet."

"Or maybe not." Jane carefully unfolded the parchment, and when she took a closer look, her heart beat faster. "It's a map! Hand-drawn, by the looks of it."

"A map? Huh." Ruth still sounded sceptical. "I didn't think Bernadette would have been able to read a map, much less draw one."

"Ruth!" Jane gave her a reproachful glance. "You shouldn't speak ill of the dead. And besides... This looks really interesting!"

"Let me see." Finally, Ruth's curiosity seemed to have been tickled. "Hmm. Looks like Hogwarts. See? There's the Eastern stairwell."

"Yes, but..." Jane felt her eyebrows contract in a frown as she tried to make sense of Bernadette's scribblings. "Shouldn't there be a courtyard around here? And that corridor is all wrong, unless... Of course! It's down in the dungeons!" she exclaimed. "See here? That little arrow means you need to go down the stairs. And then along the corridor, past the broom closet... Gosh, I don't think I've ever been down that way."

"And why would you?" Ruth shook herself. "It's dark and damp and horrible down there. All full of imps and pixies, and Merlin knows what else."

"Yes, but look!" Jane pointed to a small room in the corner of the map. It was marked with a large letter X and several exclamation marks.

"X marks the spot." Ruth grinned. "Think Bernadette hid a treasure chest down there? Ooh, maybe she found Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem!"

"Don't be silly!" Jane let out an angry huff of air. "Look, up here. Those letters."

She hadn't noticed it at first glance, but three letters had been scrawled on the upper edge of the map. "B, L, K... and more question marks. What does it mean?"

"Bacon, lettuce, ... no, can't be." Ruth shrugged. "No idea."

"Bernadette said she knew something about Kevin and Lila..." Jane felt another wild surge of excitement. "K for Kevin, L for Lila. And B..."

"For Badger." Ruth had turned pale. "Wow. You're right. It fits. But why would she hide the map in one of her books?"

"Maybe she didn't hide it. She didn't know she'd be killed, after all." Jane shook her head, sending her braids flying. "Which book was it in?"

"Let me check. _Spellman's Syllabary_." Ruth looked thoughtful. "That's Ancient Runes. Professor Ford."

Once again, Jane felt the rush of excitement, but this time it was tempered with fear, as she remembered the way Professor Ford had brushed off Bernadette's boasts as idle gossip. "He knew, Ruth. He knew that Bernadette had a clue about the killer. Remember? He was there."

"Doesn't prove a thing." Ruth shrugged. "Bernadette was running her mouth off all day long. I doubt there was anyone who _didn't_ know."

Jane barely heard her. "We need to go down there. Now."

"What! Are you crazy?" Ruth stared at her as if she had grown an extra head. "Why in Morgana's name would we do that?"

"We need to know what Bernadette found down there." Jane's mind was racing. "And we need to go now, before Professor Ford realizes we're on to him."

"No. I'm not setting foot down there. Never in a million years." Ruth shook her head decisively. "Besides, what about our homework?"

"Who cares about homework?" Jane could have smacked her. "This could be a breakthrough. Look, I'm going down there, and if you're too scared..."

"Too scared of what? What are you two on about?" Kip was putting his head around the doorjamb, smiling at both of them. "Sounds exciting."

Jane kept staring at the map, while Ruth briefly summed up their conversation for Kip. When she had finished, he whistled softly. "Gosh. And what now?"

"I'm going down there," Jane repeated. "This is important, I'm sure about it."

"If you do, then I'm coming with you." Kip's tone was quiet, but so determined that it was clear he wouldn't be dissuaded. Not that Jane particularly wanted him to change his mind. It was a relief to know she wouldn't have to go alone.

"You're completely crackers, both of you." Ruth was staring from one of them to the other, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You're going to get yourselves killed. Or worse."

"Oh come on, Ruth. You've been reading too many American detective stories again." Kip gently patted her on the shoulder. "It's bright daylight, and this is Hogwarts, not Chicago. We'll be back before you know it."

"Bright daylight won't help you much down in the dungeons," Ruth grumbled. "All right. But if you aren't back by dinner time, I'm alerting Miss Fisher."

"Actually, that's probably a good idea. Maybe you should try and memorize the map, too, just in case you need to come after us. Ugh." Jane sighed. "I wish there was a way to copy it, but we don't have enough time." She waited impatiently, while Ruth took another good long look at the map, trying to commit it to memory. "All right? We really should go." Taking the map from Ruth's hands, she headed for the stairwell before she could change her mind.

When they got to the lower floors, Jane hesitated for a moment. Ruth had been right. The dungeons _were_ dark and damp, and it might as well have been the middle of the night, for all the daylight they could glimpse down there. Jane swallowed, fighting the urge to grab Kip's hand and cling to it. Taking a deep breath, she told herself she was being ridiculous and raised her wand. "Lumos!"

Kip did the same, and in the combined light of both their wands, things looked much better. Jane exhaled slowly, relief spreading through her body like warm treacle syrup. This was just a normal Hogwarts corridor, like all the others she'd explored over the years. Sure, it smelled a bit musty down here, and there were funny noises coming from the walls, scrabbling and squeaking and the occasional rustle. But hey, the castle was old, and none of the ghosts had ever harmed her.

Next to her, Kip was breathing calmly and steadily, and Jane was overwhelmingly glad for his presence as they made their way deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of rooms and corridors that made up the dungeons. Following the map's directions was quite a bit harder than she had expected, down here, with no familiar landmarks to stick to.

"How much farther?" Kip reached for the map, his hand brushing against hers in passing.

"We should be almost there. Look!" Jane gazed up to find him looking straight into her eyes, smiling softly. "Just one more corner."

The door to the room marked on the map was unremarkable, large and made from ancient wood that had rotted a little in places but still looked sturdy enough. Carefully Jane place her hand on the iron doorknob, expecting it to be locked. But it turned smoothly in her grip, without creaking. Clearly, someone had kept it well oiled.

She took two careful steps into the room. It was empty, except for a desk on the far side, and a bookshelf next to it. On top of the desk, Jane could just about make out several vials and a small cauldron, and a few pieces of parchment that were lying haphazardly strewn around. The bookshelf was stuffed full with large, leather-bound volumes. They looked ancient, and Jane was itching to get her hands on them.

Behind her, Kip made a small, excited noise. "There. That must be it!"

Grinning at each other, they rushed toward the desk. But the moment they'd both passed the threshold, there was a whooshing noise behind them and then a "plonk", as the heavy door fell shut.

Cursing under her breath, Jane darted back, but when she grabbed the doorknob, her worst fears were confirmed. It wouldn't budge, not even a little bit. And when she pulled at it, the door rattled a little but stayed firmly closed. A faint blue glow surrounded the ancient iron locking mechanism and the door's hinges. Jane had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"It's a trap." Kip voiced her exact thoughts. "Damn. How could we have been so dumb?"


	15. Chapter 15

Phryne had spent the afternoon in Dot's company, going through all the evidence they had collected so far - what little there was of it, really. It was frustrating. Sure, they had a number of people whose behaviour was suspicious, Professor Ford chief among them, but they still didn't have the tiniest clue about a possible motive.

"It just doesn't make sense." Dot was muttering under her breath as they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. "Why would anyone want to kill our students?"

"Well, I could think of a number of reasons, especially after a long day at work," Phryne quipped, but she relented immediately at the sight of Dot's shocked expression. "You're right. That is indeed the big question - what is our killer's motive? But maybe we can get something from Professor Ford during dinner, if we play our cards right."

"What do you need me to do?" Dot's face was shining with enthusiasm.

Phryne smiled at her. For all her sweet and innocent nature, Dot was a natural at sleuthing, quick to spot logical errors and inconsistencies, and always ready to help with the investigation, even if the necessary moral flexibility didn't come easy to her. "Just be yourself. Maybe pretend to be a little more naive and harmless than you really are."

"I can do that." Dot raised her chin in determination, but then remembered her part and quickly lowered her gaze to the floor, as they approached the table.

"Ah, Miss Fisher. And our dear Miss Williams. We are lucky men indeed to have such charming company for dinner." Professor Ford smiled genially at both of them and took a chivalrous step aside to pull Dot's chair out for her. From the other side of the table, Hugh Collins was glaring at him.

Phryne, who had neatly sidestepped his attempt to manoeuvre her into a seat next to him, headed for the opposite side of the table. "Good evening, _Professor_ Ford. Professor Radix." She nodded at the ancient Arithmancy teacher who had inevitably turned up at his old chum's side.

Ford had to be a little put out by her tiny show of defiance, but he hid it well. Picking up a plate of asparagus, he turned to face Dot and solicitously began to fill her plate for her. "I hope the students haven't been giving you a hard time again, Miss Williams. They can be a rowdy bunch, the boys in particular, and for a young lady like you who lacks the necessary natural authority to handle them, it must be rather difficult."

Dot opened her mouth as if to speak, but wisely decided to let him prattle on. Phryne gave her a small, encouraging nod while she listened with one ear to Hugh's account of his Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with the Seventh Years. He was very enthusiastic about Tom Derrimut's duelling skills, and for a flash of a second Phryne wondered whether she hadn't overlooked something important there. If Tom was really so good at hexes and curses, did that mean he was capable of seriously hurting a fellow student? Not necessarily, she decided. And yet...

Glancing over at Ford and Dot, she noticed the latter's pained expression and decided it was time to come to her rescue. "You must be very experienced when it comes to recalcitrant students, Professor Ford." She fluttered her eyelids at him.

"Well, obviously." Always one to be taken in by flattery, Ford straightened up in his chair. "I'd wager there is no situation I couldn't handle. Once you've been a teacher for as long as I have-"

"Quite." Phryne neatly cut off his stream of words, softening the blow with a radiant smile. "Did you have any trouble at all with Bernadette, by the way?"

"Bernadette?" Ford frowned, clearly taken aback by her question. "No. Why would I? She was a good girl, not very bright maybe, but she would have made a perfectly fine wife for some young wizard, once she'd finished school. As I keep saying, few girls are cut out for academic work, and there's no shame in being a good helper at home."

"There certainly seems to be a consensus on that in the greater Wizarding world." Phryne's cheeks were beginning to ache from the effort of keeping up her sweet smile. "I'm only asking because someone saw you talking to Bernadette a few hours before her death, and you seemed agitated."

Next to her, Hugh Collins inhaled sharply, exchanging a quick glance with Auror Robinson, who had been seated further down the table, at the Headmistress's side. Jack Robinson's face remained calm, leaving Phryne uncertain as to whether he'd overheard her question.

Professor Ford, on the other hand, seemed quite upset by her words. "My dear Professor Fisher, if you mean to insinuate-"

"I'm not insinuating anything at all. Why would I?" She gave him her best wide-eyed look, although it probably wouldn't fool him. "I was just wondering... Call it female curiosity."

"Ah, yes. Another all too common weakness in the weaker sex." Ford cleared his throat, and gave her a long, ponderous look. "I have no recollection at all of the incident you describe, though I won't deny it's possible. Maybe the silly girl had forgotten her homework, or committed some other trivial folly. I really can't recall."

"Well, it's probably not important." Phryne glanced back at Auror Robinson who looked even grimmer than usual. Was he mad at Ford or at her, she wondered. "You see, I thought if-"

"And that, my dear Miss Fisher..." Ford chuckled in a manner so patronising that it made Phryne physically sick. He was also back to calling her "Miss" instead of giving her her proper title, she noticed. "That is exactly why logical thinking is better left to men."

"Very true." Next to him, Radix nodded sagely. "The inferiority of the female brain in logical matters has been proven over and over again. It's not their fault, of course. It's simply a biological fact."

Phryne took a deep breath and was about to give them both a piece of her mind, investigation be damned, when she noticed a girl making her way up to the teacher's table, trying to catch her attention. _Ruth_. She looked pale and worried, and why was she all alone? Well, not all alone - somewhere behind her, Ned was hovering, looking just as concerned, but there was no sign of either Jane or Kip.

All of Phryne's inner alarm bells went off. Ignoring Radix's continued bloviating, she got up from the table and was at Ruth's side in a heartbeat. "Ruthie? What's the matter?"

"It's probably nothing, Miss." Ruth was clearly doing her best to keep it together. "It's just... Jane and Kip. They've gone down to the dungeons to investigate a clue, and they've been gone for far too long. And I promised I'd call you, if-"

"Of course. Come with me and tell me all about it." Phryne took the girl's arm and gently led her out a side door.

From the corner of her eye she noticed that Jack hadn't missed the little drama that was unfolding. Already, he was on his way to follow them, and when Ruth had calmed down sufficiently to talk, he was at Phryne's side, listening with unobtrusive quietness. The moment Ruth had finished, they exchanged a look.

"Jack. This is serious, I'm sure about it." Try as she might, Phryne couldn't keep the tremor out of her voice. If anything had happened to Jane-

He nodded briskly. "Let's hurry, then. Lead the way, Ruth."

* * *

"Alohomora!" For the sixth or seventh time, Jane raised her wand and pointed it at the door, taking care to execute the motions of the spell as perfectly as if she had been asked to perform it in her N.E.W.T. exams. The spell hit the door, flared up once, and then simply fizzled out. The faint blue glow surrounding the lock showed no visible sign of change. "Damn it." She sighed wearily.

"It's no use. That locking spell is too advanced for us to handle." Kip had already given up on the door and made himself comfortable on a faded old blanket in a corner of the room. "There's nothing we can do except wait until Ruth shows up with Miss Fisher."

"But what if someone else gets to us first? What if the killer finds us before Miss Fisher does?" Jane hated how much her voice was shaking, but she couldn't help it. She was scared. Really, really scared. It was one thing to explore the dungeons, but a whole other kettle of newts to face an unscrupulous murderer. "Someone locked us in here, Kip. Someone, probably Professor Ford, but whoever it was, he set this trap for us on purpose, and if that person finds us alone and helpless in here-"

"He won't. That trap was triggered automatically, and if he'd set up some kind of notification, he'd already be here." Kip was clearly trying his best to sound soothing. Unfortunately, that had pretty much the opposite effect on Jane. "It must be almost dinner time, and as soon as Ruth tells Miss Fisher, she'll be on her way to find us."

"Yes, but..." Jane took a deep breath, forcing herself not to be mad at him. The whole thing was hardly his fault. "It might be too late by then. And what if Ruth can't remember the map well enough to find us? We won't stand a chance against a fully trained wizard, if the worst comes to the worst."

"I know." Kip bit his lip. "But what do you want us to do, Jane? Our Stunning spells are too weak to knock down that door, and we've tried every other spell I can think of."

"Maybe if we use an Aguamenti spell on the door to drench it, and then freeze it..." Jane's mind was racing. "That should break down the wood, if we keep doing it over and over again." Only, she wasn't really sure how to do a Freezing spell, and-

"Jane!" Kip was shaking his head. "Come and take a break. Miss Fisher will come for us, and until then all we can do is wait." He extended an arm toward her and gave her a pleading look.

Against her will, Jane felt her resistance melt. "All right. I just wish-"

"Me, too. Now come here." He patted the blanket next to him invitingly. "It's more comfortable than it looks."

With a resigned sigh, Jane sat down at his side and closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. It took a while, but finally, she relaxed a little. It really wasn't too bad. The blanket was threadbare, but warm enough to keep the chill of the floor away, especially with Kip right next to her, sharing the warmth. And it was nice to sit here with him, in companionable silence, to hear him breathe and feel his arm or leg brush against her now and then.

"Jane?" Kip's voice sounded strange, tentative and unsure.

She opened her eyes to find him looking at her with intense focus. "What is it? Everything all right?"

He shuffled a little closer, placing a careful hand on her forearm. "Jane... I know we've been friends forever, and I don't want to ruin that, but I wanted to... just in case we don't make it out of here..." He swallowed and looked down at his own hand on her arm. "I... I'd really like us to be more than friends."

"You WHAT?" For a heartbeat, Jane forgot all about their current predicament, including the need to keep her voice down.

Kip blushed to the roots of his hair. "I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No!" Jane's heart was beating so wildly she was sure he had to hear it. "I just didn't expect... Could you say it again? Please?" Slowly, she extended her own hand to place it on top of his. His skin was warm and dry, and he was trembling a little when she touched him.

"I want to be more than just friends." He had raised his head now and was looking her straight in the eyes. "I really, really like you. I mean, not just like, I..." Another deep breath, and he was holding her hand now, gently, like a captive bird. "I'm in love with you. I’ve been for quite some time now."

Jane felt too dazed to reply, so she just nodded slowly, staring at him as if he was a ghost. "Well... that's lovely," she finally managed.

Kip was blushing again, but he still hadn't let go of her hand, and now his grip tightened a little, growing more confident. "I mean, if you don't feel the same, obviously I won't say another word, and I hope we can still remain friends, but-"

"Kip!" Having found her voice again, she nearly screamed at him. "I... It's okay. Me, too. I mean, I'm in love with you, too." Saying the words aloud, here in this cold and dark place, felt so odd that it made her dizzy. And at the same time, she was glad for the dim light, because she wasn't sure she'd have been brave enough to say the words aloud in bright daylight.

"Oh." Kip was silent for a moment, but now his hand was clenching hers so hard, Jane thought he might break it. Still, she didn't say a word, because the last thing she wanted was for him to let go. "You see, I didn't know what to do about it. I mean, I talked to Ned, but he really-"

"You mean, Ned knew? All the time?" Jane couldn't believe her ears. "Then why didn't he say so when-"

"I told him not to mention it to you, of course." Kip was looking at her with an earnest devotion that made her swoon inside. "I knew I had to pick up my courage and tell you myself. It just wasn't easy, you know. You're so..."

"So what?" For a moment, Jane dreaded he'd say something awful. So bossy? So snappish? So intimidating?

"So amazing." Kip smiled at her, and slowly raised both their hands to his lips, breathing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Jane, you're just the greatest girl I've ever met, and I didn't think you'd be interested in me. Not like that, I mean."

"And why wouldn't I be? I mean, you're pretty special yourself." Jane had the oddest feeling in her chest, so hot and full, almost as if she would burst any moment, and it took her a moment to identify that feeling as sheer happiness. "Oh, Kip, I'm so glad. I'm so very glad you told me."

"Me, too." He was smiling again, and Merlin, she loved his smile so very much, that little dimple on his cheek, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners... And now he was leaning in, and Jane's heart did a curious little leap as she realised he was about to kiss her.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, not daring to move a muscle for fear of scaring him off. This was not at all how she'd imagined her first kiss; no moonlight, no soft music playing in the background, no scent of lilacs or roses in the air. Just Kip, whose lips were so close now they were almost brushing against hers, Kip who was going slow and giving her all the time to pull back, if she wanted, but of course she didn't want to. All she wanted was-

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" The sound of Miss Fisher's voice from behind the door made them jump apart.

There were a few more muffled words, in a deeper voice, its tone urgent and anxious. That had to be Auror Robinson, but whatever he was trying to say was cut off by the biggest explosion Jane had ever heard.

With a loud, crashing noise, the door flew off his hinges and into the room, thankfully missing them by a comfortable distance. When the dust had settled and the ringing in her ears had subsided a little, Jane could just about make out the silhouettes of several people against the ruined doorframe. Miss Fisher, her wand raised high, and the auror next to her; Ruth and Ned in the background, trying to peek past the grown-ups.

"Janey?" Miss Fisher sounded so fearful it made Jane's heart contract painfully. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Jane jumped to her feet, reaching for Kip's hand to pull him up with her. "We both are."

"Thank Merlin!" And Jane felt herself being gathered up into a tight hug, a rare demonstration of open affection where Miss Fisher was concerned. "I was so worried. I tried to open the door with a spell, but it wouldn't budge. And I could hear your voices, but not what you were saying, so I simply blasted my way in."

"In a thoroughly reckless manner." Auror Robinson was shaking his head in reproach. "Honestly, Miss Fisher. You could have killed us all by setting off such a blast in a confined space. What were you thinking?"

But Miss Fisher wasn't listening to him at all. Instead, she was hugging Jane tightly, as if she never wanted to let her go again. "Janey. I'm so glad," she repeated softly.

Jane made a small shushing noise, hugging her back. "It's all good, Aunt Phryne. I'm fine, I really am."

One more tight hug, and Miss Fisher took a step back, inhaling deeply. "Of course you are. Now let's head back. Mac and Professor Butler will be worried sick about you." 

* * *

They took Jane and Kip to the hospital wing first to have Alice check on them. It seemed a tad overcautious to Jack, but Miss Fisher had insisted on it. Afterwards, Professor Butler escorted them both to the kitchens for a late-night snack, since they had both missed dinner. "It won't do for a growing lad like you to miss a meal." The old teacher seemed hugely relieved to see Kip safe and sound.

Both Jane and Kip agreed enthusiastically. They seemed glad for a chance to spend some more time together. Jack wondered if Miss Fisher was aware of the budding romance between them, but then he caught her following the two of them out with her eyes, and he mentally scolded himself. Of course she knew. Phryne Fisher wasn't likely to miss such an interesting development.

It took them a while to locate Professor MacMillan, but they finally found her in the staff room where she was caught up in a heated discussion with Professor Turner about the subtleties of Polyjuice Potion. She quickly agreed to take care of Jane and make sure she got to bed safely. "Of course, Phryne. I'll watch her like a hawk."

With the children safely taken care of, Jack and Miss Fisher found themselves in her suite once more, as if by some unspoken agreement. The whisky carafe had been carefully checked and replaced, and Jack had taken care to get a new bezoar from Professor MacMillan's stack as well. Still, when Miss Fisher raised her glass to her lips, he had the most vivid flashback to the scene that had gone before, and it took all his control not to grab the glass from her. The whole thing had scared him more than he liked to admit – both the danger she'd been in, and the fact of how much he cared.

If Miss Fisher noticed his odd look, she didn't remark on it. She just handed him his own glass and settled next to him on the couch, her legs crossed elegantly.

"Our killer is getting nervous," she remarked calmly.

"True." Taking a sip from his whisky, Jack nodded. "First you, now Jane and Kip. We must be getting uncomfortably close to the truth. Clearly we've stumbled upon some vital piece of evidence."

"That's a comforting thought." Miss Fisher shivered. "Or it would be if we had any idea _which_ bit of evidence was the relevant one." Raising her gaze to meet his eyes, she swallowed hard, and Jack was struck by the amount of fear and guilt in her eyes. "I still can't bear the thought, Jack. If anything had happened to Jane-"

"She's fine. You told me she could look after herself, remember?" Jack took care to keep his tone calm and practical.

"Yes, but-" Miss Fisher inhaled shakily. "If the killer had got to her first... I can't lose her, Jack! Not Jane. Not again."

"What do you mean, not again?" Jack frowned and set down his glass.

She was quiet for a long time, and when she finally spoke up, her voice sounded small and lost, unlike anything he'd ever heard from her. "My sister… her name was Jane, too. She-" Miss Fisher swallowed again, and Jack's fingers clenched in an unconscious impulse to take her hand and hold it. "She died when I was twelve years old. She... she was taken by a dark wizard. Murdoch Foyle."

Jack had heard of the Foyle case. It had been long before his time at the Auror Office, of course. Still, the older aurors who had worked the case weren't likely to forget, and they'd sometimes spoken of it, in hushed voices, their faces full of horror and regret. In his mad quest for power, Foyle had abducted a host of young girls to use them in various black magic rituals. If a monster like him had got his hands on Miss Fisher's sister, the poor girl had never stood a chance.

"I'm so sorry." His words sounded hollow to his own ears, and he wished there was something else he could say, something more eloquent or compassionate or helpful.

But Miss Fisher - Phryne - just nodded and went on, angrily shaking her head to get rid of the tears that had formed in her eyes. "So you see? I can't allow anything to happen to Jane. I can't."

"And you won't." Finally giving in to his impulse, Jack reached out to take her hand and squeeze it hard. "You won't," he repeated. "Now, what exactly did you say to Professor Ford during dinner?"

"Just that Bernadette... Oh Merlin, Jack, do you think I saved Jane and Kip by keeping Ford distracted?" Phryne was staring down at her glass with undivided focus. "Maybe if I hadn't talked to him-"

"Maybe." Jack shook his head. "Do you really think Ford is behind all this?"

"Yes. No. It seems... somehow not his style, you know." She was biting her lip so hard Jack was beginning to worry for her immaculate lipstick. "And if he had just lured them down to the dungeons, why would he even show up for dinner?"

"It could have been an attempt to establish an alibi." Jack shrugged. "Though I agree. It all seems too... elaborate for Ford. Too methodical. I wonder-"

"But of course!" Phryne's head flew up and she met his gaze, and there was not a trace of tears in her eyes now. They were flashing with excitement, and she had let go of his hand. "Jack! We've been blind! It's so obvious."

"It is?" Jack raised an eyebrow. He was rather proud of his own deductive abilities but whatever logical leap her brain just had taken was clearly beyond him.

"Of course it is." She got to her feet so quickly that her glass tumbled to the floor, unheeded. "Everything's been pointing to one person. How could we miss it?"

Jack was getting a tad impatient. "Would you _please_ care to elaborate? Which person?"

"Professor Turner, of course." Phryne looked at him as if he was slow. "She was the one who never showed up for dinner. She was the one who tried to incriminate Ford. And remember what Jane said about finding the map?"

Jack did his best to recall the details. "She said it was hidden in a book about Ancient Runes." And surely that fact pointed to Professor Ford rather than-

"A book that _Professor Turner_ had asked her to return to the library," Phryne finished triumphantly. "She knows her students, Jack! She knew Jane would be conscientious enough to check the books before returning them. So she hid the map in there, counting on Jane to find it and follow up on the clue. And if we hadn't arrived in time-"

"But why didn't she get there before us? If what you say is true?" Jack was doing his best to keep up, but his mind was racing.

"Because Mac held her up! Remember when we got to the staff room and they were deep in discussion about some potion or other?" Phryne clenched her fists. "I thought she seemed a bit irritable at the time, but I figured she was just eager to get to her dinner. We need to confront her. Now!" Phryne was already heading for the door when she stopped in her tracks. "But why, Jack? She seems like such a sensible woman and she is devoted to her teaching. Why would she want to harm her students?"

He got to his feet to follow her. "I have no idea. Let's go and ask her."


	16. Chapter 16

Professor Turner was not in her room. She wasn't in the staff room either, and none of the other teachers had seen her. All things considered, Jack wasn't really surprised. The woman was intelligent enough to realize that it was only a question of time until they would work out her involvement in the string of crimes.

"What now?" He turned to face Phryne - no, _Miss Fisher_ , he reminded himself. It wouldn't do to get too familiar, even inside his own head. He had to remain professional.

She pondered for a moment. "Let's head back to the dungeons. I believe it's time we took a closer look at the books down there."

"Good idea." He mentally chided himself for not having thought of that earlier. "Maybe we can find more clues as to a possible motive there."

When they arrived downstairs, the room was empty and silent. The ruins of the door were squeaking softly in their hinges, and there was a faint odour of burnt wood and sulphur in the air. Jack shook his head at the extent of the destruction. That Blasting spell had had all the force of Miss Fisher's fear and worry for her adopted daughter behind it – but even so, it had been a formidable feat. And to have directed it so precisely... Whatever else could be said about her, Phryne Fisher was a highly skilled practitioner of magic, and those who messed with her did so at their own risk.

She was heading straight for the bookcase now, grabbing one of the slimmer volumes. "Animal transfigurations." She frowned. "And here's one on cross-species switches. This doesn't make sense. Why would Professor Turner have to read up on this? It's fairly basic Transfiguration knowledge."

"Odd." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are there more?"

"A whole lot more." Miss Fisher indicated the shelf with a sweeping gesture. "And not just school textbooks. Some of them look like they come from the restricted section of the library."

"Check those first." Jack decided to focus on the kettle and the various vials and boxes arranged on the desk. "Hmmm. Mandrake, lots of it. And this here..." He picked up an object. "Looks like a dried butterfly of some kind."

"Let me see..." Miss Fisher took the thing from his hands. "Yes, that's a moth. Curious. What kind of potion was she trying to concoct here? It doesn't look like anything I'm familiar with, but maybe Mac could help."

"What else have you got?" He leant over her shoulder to catch a look at the large leather-bound volume she had picked up. "A book on Animagi? Now, I wonder… Do you happen to know if Professor Turner is a registered Animagus?"

"No." The voice from the doorway made them both swivel around. Professor Turner was there, looking pale as death, her eyes large and feverish. "No, I'm not," she repeated. "Though not for lack of trying. Ever since I was a little girl it had been my biggest dream, to turn into an animal, a wolf maybe, or a wildcat. My Patronus is a lynx, and I always thought I'd be a lynx." She shook her head, laughing softly to herself. "But I could never make it work."

"It is a difficult and involved piece of magic, from what I understand." Miss Fisher's tone was quiet and full of sympathy, but it only served to make Professor Turner more agitated.

"But I should have been able to do it!" She glared at both of them. "I studied for years. I became so accomplished at any other kind of transfiguration that my teachers called me a prodigy. When I applied for the post here, it was a shoo-in. And yet, this one thing I couldn't do. No matter how often I went through the process, it wouldn't work. I did everything right. I observed the moon, I didn't make a single mistake with the incantation, but it didn't work." Her gaze turned inward. "I simply couldn't understand. There had to be a way. There's always a way. You just have to find it. So I set out to find it."

Jack gasped when he realized what she was implying, but Miss Fisher was already a step ahead of him.

"You began to experiment." Her tone was still compassionate, but there was an edge to it now. "You used the students to find out what went wrong."

Professor Turner nodded. "And _they_ could do it. Oh, they didn't become Animagi, not straight away, but with a little help from me, they could transform into their animal forms." Her features hardened and suddenly, there was very little sanity left in her eyes. "Every single time, without fail."

"You resented them." Miss Fisher shook her head. "They could do what you couldn't, and you resented them for it. But they were children, Helen. They didn't deserve to be treated like lab rats."

"I was careful!" Professor Turner genuinely seemed to resent her words. "I only used the ones that came to me for help. And yes, there were some weird mutations, but I always managed to turn them back. Besides, I always made sure they forgot afterwards."

"But they forgot other things as well," Jack threw in. "You messed with their memories. You violated their minds."

Professor Turner shrugged. "What could they possibly forget that was more important than the science they helped me to develop? So what, if they had a few memory lapses? I didn't harm any of them."

"Until you did." There was no warmth left in Miss Fisher's voice anymore. "Until Badger ended up in the lake. How did that happen, by the way?"

"He'd turned into the cutest little otter." Professor Turner was smiling fondly now, and in a way, that was worse. "But then he got away, and I couldn't catch him in time before the spell wore off."

"He nearly died." Jack surreptitiously began looking for a way to get past her, a way to gain the upper hand, while she was distracted by their conversation. "And yet, you didn't stop your experiments."

"It was one little glitch." She sighed. "Badger had been a bit of a wild card anyway. The others were much more amenable."

"Like Lila. She transformed into some sort of forest animal, I suppose?" Miss Fisher exchanged a quick glance with Jack, and he realized she, too, was stalling. She, too, was considering their options while they kept Professor Turner talking.

"A doe." Another smile, this one almost dreamy. "Such a pretty little doe she was. So skittish. I was careful with her, but then one of Cec's hippogriffs scared her, and she broke into a run and disappeared into the forest. But she wasn't hurt either." She turned to face Miss Fisher, ignoring Jack completely. "I never wanted to hurt any of them. But I needed to _know_."

"And Kevin paid the ultimate price for your thirst for knowledge." Jack felt physically sick. "I assume his animal form could fly."

"Indeed. Ah, Kevin. Such an unattractive human specimen, and such a magnificent buzzard he made..." Professor Turner sighed. "I knew I had to stop then. Things were getting out of hand. But it was too late. Bernadette had already found out about my studies."

"Or so she claimed." Miss Fisher was outwardly calm, but Jack noticed she was trembling with barely suppressed fury. "For all we know, she was only boasting."

"Well, I couldn't really take that risk, could I?" Professor Turner shook her head, giving her an almost pitying look. "But I made sure she wouldn't suffer. Poor stupid girl."

"And you would have killed me, too. Me and Jane and Kip." Miss Fisher raised her chin defiantly. "But we aren't quite so easy to get rid of, my dear Helen."

"Don't be so sure about that." With a motion almost too quick too follow, Professor Turner's wand flew up, and her lips began to form the words of a curse.

"Phryne!" Jack couldn't help himself. The moment the spell arced from the wand, he threw himself physically in front of her.

"Jack!" He heard her voice, high-pitched with indignation at his interference, and he felt her hand on his hip, pulling him down. There was a whooshing noise and an electric feeling as the spell whizzed right over his head, obliterating his favourite hat.

Somehow, Miss Fisher managed to gracefully wiggle out from under him, aiming her wand at Professor Turner without a moment's hesitation. " _Stupefy_!" Her voice rang out, bright and clear, and her spell hit the exact spot where Professor Turner had stood only a heartbeat before.

But she was already gone, headed down the corridor to escape. Moving so quickly that Jack had trouble keeping up, Miss Fisher lunged for the doorway, wand at the ready. " _Tarantallegra_!"

Jack heard Professor Turner shriek, and as he rounded the corner, he saw her, her legs jerking wildly out of control in a surreal parody of a dance, her face contorted in a savage rictus. "Make it stop!" Her wand had dropped to the floor, and Jack secured it with a quick _Accio_.

"Professor Turner, I hereby arrest you in the name of the Auror Office. _Incarcerous_!" Another quick movement of his wand conjured a tight magical rope around her wrists. Her legs were still moving too erratically to be secured.

Professor Turner made a small, astonished noise and stared at him as if she couldn't believe her ears. "Arrested?"

He nodded. "You will be taken to Azkaban immediately. Miss Fisher?"

Behind him, Miss Fisher muttered a counter curse, and Professor Turner's legs stopped in mid-motion. She slumped to the floor, defeated and didn't say another word.

It was over. The case was solved, the killer found.

Jack felt the familiar surge of triumphant relief usually associated this with particular moment in an investigation. And yet, as he turned to face Miss Fisher and shared a quick smile with her, he couldn't help but notice that this time around, it was tinged with a faint but unmistakable feeling of regret.

* * *

"I can't believe it!" Ruth was beaming all over. "Miss Fisher did it! She solved the case, and just in time for the Midwinter Dance!"

"She did. Though, to be fair, Auror Robinson helped a little." Jane smiled affectionately at her best friend. "Your new robes look fabulous."

"You think?" Ruth twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror. "Yeah, I believe they do."

Her robes were beautiful, as were Jane's: blue and silver for Ravenclaw, with delicately embroidered eagles on the sleeves and lapels. Miss Fisher had also sprung for new evening gowns to wear underneath the robes - a silver one for Ruth, and a dark blue one for Jane. With their hair done up and just a hint of lipstick, both girls looked stunning, and they knew it.

And if Jane had had any doubts, the look in Kip's eyes as he came to greet her would have been enough to dispel them. He was looking good, too, all in black and with his hair neatly brushed. _He really cleans up well_. 

"You're so lovely." He offered her his arm and at the same time bent down to breathe a kiss on her cheek. "You look great, too, Ruth," he added hastily.

But Ruth was already craning her neck to catch a glimpse of Tom, who was standing in the far corner, surrounded by a gaggle of Gryffindor girls.

"Come on, Ruth. You can do it." Ned was there, too, of course, and he was grinning at Ruth's eagerness. "Let's show them you're just as courageous as they are. I'll be your wingman, if you need one."

"Oh, would you? Thanks, Ned. You're the best." Gratefully, Ruth took hold of his arm, and together they headed for the Gryffindors.

"Aw, that's sweet." Jane followed them with her gaze. She and Kip had spent every waking moment together since the incident in the dungeons, and she didn't want Ruth to feel left out and lonely. "I just hope-"

"They will be fine." Kip grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised if Ned ends up with a cute Gryffindor as well. Love is in the air tonight, you know. Did you hear about Alice and Professor Yates? They announced their engagement this morning, Professor Butler told me, and they are planning a June wedding."

"Really? Oh wow." Jane sighed dreamily. Secretly, she wondered what it would be like to be in love, when you were all grown-up, darting from one affair to the other like Miss Fisher, or headed for marriage like Alice and Cec. _Must be exciting._ Actually, she wouldn't mind a little more excitement herself. So far, Kip had been sweet and attentive, but he hadn't tried to kiss her again, and if she was honest, Jane was about done waiting for him to pick up his courage.

She was about to turn to Kip and say something when there was a commotion at the other end of the room. "Talking of love in the air..." Jane tilted her head meaningfully toward the two people who were now climbing the dais. Professor Collins and Professor Williams looked so _very_ good together, happy and relaxed in each other's company, clearly smitten with each other. Jane was pretty sure they would hear of another engagement soon.

"Good evening!" Professor Collins had remembered his Sonorus charm this time, and his booming voice filled the room. "A warm welcome to all of you, and many thanks to our dear Madam Puddifoot for this wonderful opportunity she's providing for us to dance and be merry."

"There's cake and butterbeer on the side tables, for those in need of refreshments." Next to him, Professor Williams looked utterly charming in a plain but well-made evening gown. "Have a lovely evening, everyone. And don't forget your dance steps."

A big round of applause answered them both, and then the music started, and Kip pulled Jane into the dance hold they had practiced so conscientiously. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are." She smiled up at him, and he took a deep breath, pulling her into the first turn.

Much to Jane's surprise, it went well. They nearly collided with Derek and Rose, who glided past them with an easy grace Jane couldn't help but envy, but Kip pulled her back just in time. Soon they settled into the rhythm of the dance, and it was... It was so lovely, being here with him, in his arms, surrounded by music and laughter and friends. Once or twice, they mixed up their steps, but Kip just laughed it off, and it didn't matter, not one bit. Jane caught herself wishing the dance would go on forever, but of course it didn't. All too soon, the music ended, and they stopped, with a small stumble that sent her careening right into Kip's chest.

And suddenly Jane knew what she had to do. Tilting her head back, she caught his gaze and closed her eyes, pulling him closer with a hand on his neck. Kip made a small, surprised noise, but he seemed more than on board with her idea. There were a few whoops and catcalls from the couples surrounding them, but Jane barely heard them. Because finally, they were kissing, really kissing, and it was everything she had ever dreamed of, soft and sweet and perfect.

When they pulled apart, Kip's eyes were shining with happiness and Jane's heart was so full she could barely breathe. She'd been looking forward to this, her final year at Hogwarts. But she had never expected it would turn out quite as exciting as it had.

* * *

"I see you've dressed up for the occasion." Jack Robinson's tone was dry, but there was nothing but sincere appreciation in his eyes as he took in Phryne's evening gown. "Were you planning on joining the party?"

"I was, but I think I may change my mind." Phryne returned his gaze with a frank appraisal of her own. There could be no doubt that Jack really made those auror robes work. "I rather like it up here."

They had met on a small gallery above the Great Hall that offered a discreet view of the dance floor. It was nice, Phryne thought, to be able to watch from the shadows, without drawing attention to herself. It was also nice to have the auror all to herself for a little while.

Down in the hall, Dot and Hugh had just finished greeting the students and the first dance had started. Phryne leaned a little forward to catch a better look at the young couple, as they were waltzing out of sight under the balustrade. "Dearest Dot. She is such a sweetheart. And Hugh, too. You know," she turned to face Jack. "It's such a pity he decided to quit his position at the Auror Office. He seems perfect for the job."

"Yes, well." Jack closed his eyes for a moment. "Not all of us are cut out for handling murder and violence. Hugh is a kind soul."

"True." Phryne nodded thoughtfully. "Besides, I believe he's happy here." She smiled down at Dot and Hugh, who had now paused for breath and were talking in a corner, their faces flushed and happy.

"He definitely is." Jack sounded regretful. "Still, I miss having him at my side. But it can't be helped."

"And now that the case is solved, you will no doubt return to London." Phryne didn't bother to hide the regret in her own voice. Surely Jack Robinson had to be aware by now that she appreciated his company.

He nodded, and if she wasn't very much mistaken, he didn't look too happy either. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. There's a whole stack of case files waiting on my desk, according to Head Auror Scamander."

"Give Theseus my regards." Phryne smiled fondly at the memory of her last encounter with the formidable Head of the Auror Office. It had been just a few months ago, when one of Lin's business operations down at the Docks had gone sideways, and the whole affair had turned out rather exciting. "Tell him we really appreciated having you here."

"I should hope so." Jack's face remained completely serious, but wasn't there a tiny twinkle in his eyes? "After all, I made huge sacrifices for this case. That was one of my favourite hats Professor Turner burnt to a crisp, you know."

"Better the hat than its bearer." Phryne shivered. "But you are right. It _was_ a very nice hat. Fortunately-" She reached behind her back for the soft new hat she had hidden there earlier. "That particular injustice is easy to set right."

His eyebrows flew up. "You got me a replacement?"

"I did." Taking a step closer, Phryne carefully placed the hat on his head, at a rakish angle. "There. That's better."

"Thank you." He smiled, and Merlin, that smile was an even better look on him than his usual calm, determined expression. "I appreciate your concern, Miss Fisher, as well as your sense of justice."

Phryne didn't step back, but instead ran her hand lightly down his chest, following the line of his tie. Her fingers were itching to take it off him, but she knew better than to take such liberties with a man like him. _Not yet_. "And now that that's all settled... Would you care to join me for a dance, Auror Robinson?"

"I think I might manage a waltz." He sounded thoughtful. "If that isn't too tame for you."

"Oh, but a waltz is anything but tame, Jack," she purred. "I've always found it to be rather... dizzying. If it's done right."

"Is that so?" Without further prompting, his arms found their way around her, and he took a few steps, tentative at first but then with more assurance. "Then I shall do my best to live up to your standards."

Phryne leaned back into his embrace with a deep sigh of relief. Thank Merlin, the man could dance, even better than she'd hoped for. _Another point in his favour_.

Above them, the spelled ceiling of the Great Hall showed a starry sky with only a few dark clouds drifting across it, and below them, a thousand candles were creating a mirror image of the constellations. When Phryne closed her eyes, she could hear music, and the tinkling of butterbeer bottles, and the excited chatter of young voices. And she could feel Jack's hand on her bare back, firm and warm, just like it belonged there. She could smell the scent of his aftershave and listen to him breathing, just a hint faster than usual, due to the exertion of the dance.

"So..." He cleared his throat. "Once I'm back in London, we probably won't be seeing each other again."

The thought was so jarring that her eyes flew wide open. With a start, she realized that she wasn't ready to just let Jack Robinson walk out of her life like this. "Don't be too sure, Jack." She fluttered her eyes at him, pleased to hear his breath hitch. "I think I'll return to my house in London over the Christmas holidays. Besides, once the school year is over, and Jane is no longer a student here..." She hesitated. Phryne was not in the habit of sharing her plans with a man, any man, but in this case, she was ready to make an exception. "Well, I have a feeling Aunt P may need to find a replacement for me. I'm not sure teaching suits me in the long run."

His mouth twitched a little. "Not adventurous enough?"

"Unless you throw in a few murders now and then. And it seems like bad taste to hope for that." Phryne beamed at him. "So you see... Our paths may yet cross again."

"I don't doubt it for a minute, Miss Fisher." Jack pulled her a tiny bit closer, just as the dance was ending, then let her go with a small, regretful sigh. "After all, you seem to attract trouble wherever you go."

**Author's Note:**

> Huggles to my lovely daughter for plotting this with me and helping me to come up with ideas, and a huge thank you to my wonderful beta suilven.


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